Shadows Part 1: The Fear
by Rocket Axxonu
Summary: With Azula still on the loose and more dangerous than ever, Zuko decides to enlist the help of an old friend to take care of her once and for all, with a power not even Azula can fight. [Set after Smoke and Shadow.]
1. The Solution

A/N: So. As though I wasn't getting sidetracked enough.

After having it on my list forever and having many recommendations, I finally got around to watching Avatar: The Last Airbender. Needless to say, I got a little more sucked in than I meant to, and this project came about as a result. (And yes, it is intentionally supposed to be a throwback to _The Southern Raiders_.)

This is set after the events of the three-part comic __Smoke and Shadow__ _._ (Since __North and South__ came out after I had already pretty much written the rough draft for this, the events there will be mainly disregarded. Note that there will be spoilers for all the comics, both in the story itself and in author's notes.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar the Last Airbender, either the show or the comics.

Rated for violence.

Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 1: The Solution

* * *

" _Same as always, Zuzu. Even when you're strong, you're weak."_

Zuko opened his eyes to find himself staring at the ornate ceiling above his bed.

For just a moment, a single image of his younger sister lingered in his mind. Stray strands of black hair fell in her face, and sleepless dark circles hung beneath her eyes. She stared back at him, her lips twisted with disgust and disappointment as a single tear trailed down her perfect face.

Zuko closed his eyes against the memory, then forced himself to sit up.

The sun had not yet risen, and Zuko knew it was far too early to be up. However, he knew he would not be getting back to sleep now—he hadn't had a proper night's rest for the last fortnight.

Zuko put his feet on the floor and slipped quietly from his chamber. As always, a Kyoshi guard was stationed there, and as he passed, she made as though to follow him. He gestured for her to stay where she was.

"I'm just going to check on something," he muttered in a low voice. "I'll be fine."

The girl hesitated. "With all due respect, Lord Zuko..."

"I'll be fine," he repeated firmly. "If you get in trouble with Suki later, you can tell her to blame me. Anyway, I'm not going far."

The girl didn't look entirely convinced, but as Zuko started down the hall, she didn't try to follow.

Against his will, the face flashed through his mind again. Only this time it was half cast in shadow, painted lips spread in a smile, eyes wide with a crazed, almost cruel delight.

" _I know I will never be Fire Lord, because I'm not meant to be Fire Lord. My destiny, you see, is..."_

Zuko felt a bead of sweat break out on his temple. He walked faster.

He turned a sharp corner, and his eyes fell on the room he was looking for, just a single door on a wide wall. There, another Kyoshi warrior stood posted.

" _My destiny, you see..."_

Nearly sprinting, in a moment he was at the dark doorway. Barely glancing at the guard, he slid back the partition and, taking a breath, peered inside.

For a moment, he couldn't see anything in the darkness. But as his eyes adjusted to the silver light of the moon outside, he began to make out shapes. First the outline of an enormous bed with four columns, not unlike this own. Then, on the bed, beneath the crimson blankets, three nestled figures. Two longer, larger, and a smaller one in between.

Zuko let out a sigh of relief and, closing the door as quietly as he could, let himself slump back against the wall beside it.

"Zuko? Is everything all right?"

Zuko opened his eyes to see that the Kyoshi guard beside the door was Suki.

She glanced around briefly, looking for possible hostiles. But of course, the night was perfectly still, and her eyes returned to peer at him with concern.

Zuko worked to steady his breathing and regain his composure. "Just...Just checking. I couldn't sleep, and I thought I would just..."

Suki's eyes flickered to the hall behind him, then back. "Where's the guard assigned to your room? Liu should have come with you."

Zuko shook his head. "I told her I wasn't going far."

Suki pursed her lips. Through the fearsome red and white face paint all Kyoshi warriors wore, Zuko had trouble telling if the expression was one of further concern, or exasperation.

"Lord Zuko," she began, in an unusually formal tone, "I hope it won't offend you if I were to point out that you have hired us to protect you from danger. For us not to be allowed to properly perform our duties..." She allowed the back-handed reprimand to hang.

Zuko sighed. "I know, Suki. I'm sorry."

Suki's expression softened. When she spoke again, she once more addressed him as a friend. "Are you all right, Zuko?" She eyed the sunken hollows of his cheeks, and the dark circles beneath his eyes. "What's wrong?"

She glanced at the door she had been guarding, where his mother, her husband, and Zuko's little half sister Kiyi slept. "Don't worry, Zuko," she said. "We'll keep them safe. We keep a guard here at all times during the night, just as you asked, and someone to discreetly keep an eye on them during the day. They'll be fine."

Zuko nodded. He took another deep breath to steady himself, but as he let it out again, it shook and caught. He knew he wasn't fooling her, and his head dropped. He looked away.

"I'm sorry, Suki," he muttered, eyes going back to the door again. "It's not that I don't trust you and the other warriors. It's just—every night I've been having these dreams. I dream that Azula has come back, and everything and everyone I love is in danger."

Suki put a hand on his shoulder. "We beat Azula this last time. Next time she shows up, we'll beat her again."

Zuko still didn't look up. "Did we beat her?" he asked quietly. "Did we really?"

"As far as I know," Suki answered, looking mystified. "She wanted to discredit you, and use the New Ozai Society to get her father back on the throne—or maybe she thought she would get it for herself. Either way, her plan didn't work. You helped get all the children back safe and sound, and she had to flee without anything to show for it."

Zuko didn't meet her eyes.

" _In the last twenty-four hours, I've shown how ruthless you can be."_

His skin felt chilled, and his hands shook ever so slightly.

" _Deep down inside, you're still one of us... Eventually, you will become just like me."_

Zuko's hands slowly closed into fists. He shook his head once, shaking off the incessant voice.

"It's my fault," he said suddenly. "It's my fault Azula got loose, and my fault that she was able to do what she did. Imagine what could have happened. If things had gone just wrong..."

"Zuko," Suki said, almost gently. "It won't do anyone any good for you to blame yourself. The important thing is you handled it as best you could."

Zuko turned away from her. "She's still my responsibility," he said quietly. "Wherever she is, or whatever she does."

Zuko started down the corridor, though not back in the direction of his room.

"Are you going back to bed?" Suki asked uncertainly.

Zuko shook his head. "No. I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. I think I'll go down to the Agni Kai arena, and go through a few of my firebending forms."

"I'll come with you," Suki said immediately. "Just let me go get Liu to stand guard here."

It was more of a statement than a suggestion, and she didn't seem to be looking for his input, but Zuko said quickly, "No, I'll be fine. You stay here. I'd like to be alone."

Suki sighed.

Zuko made his way briskly down to the arena. As he went, he listened for any possible sound from the shadows—the light tamp of a shoe, the rustling of a cloak. Several times he stopped walking altogether and spun where he was, but of course the hall was deserted.

A shiver went down his spine as he put a hand to the arena door to push it inward. He knew he was being overly paranoid. He hadn't acted like this since his first year as Fire Lord, barely able to sleep for fear yet another assassin would come for him in the night. And yet—was it really possible to be _overly paranoid_ when it came to Azula?

Azula had been missing for months now, after helping him find their mother and then escaping into the Forgetful Valley. However, Zuko's main concern in finding her then had been for her own safety. Back then, Azula had been half out of her mind, often breaking off into mad rants, barely sleeping, and throwing lightning bolts at nothing—unsettling as all that was, Azula had proven not all that difficult to subdue, and one member of Team Avatar alone was usually enough to handle her.

Not until Azula's most recent attack on the capital did Zuko find himself haunted by these dreams. Strangely, when he had first laid eyes on her again for the first time in months, his first emotion had been relief—he had worried what kind of state she might be in, lost out in the wilderness, her unstable mind plagued by visions and ceaseless paranoia. But he had seen immediately in her face that she was better. The madness in her eyes had diminished, and she seemed so much more like her old self. Healthier, stronger.

But a mentally sound, strong Azula was a danger, and after hearing what she had to say—what her new diabolical plans were—and after having the chance to come away from the encounter, relief had been replaced with anxiety. He wasn't afraid her plans would ever succeed, but he knew his sister well enough to know just how far she would be willing to go to try. She would do everything she could to push him into a corner, trap him, and in the process, everyone he cared about would suffer.

Zuko let his head rest against the door to the Agni Kai arena.

 _I brought this on myself,_ he thought. _I should have listened to Aang, and Katara, and Sokka. No matter what deal I had to make with Azula to get her to show us the place my mother might be, I should have found a way to take better precautions._

Zuko slowly clenched his hand into a fist, and pounded it once on the door.

He heard a rustle behind him, soon followed by a quiet footstep.

Ice plunged into his stomach, and he spun around, heart pounding, flames erupting on his fists.

"Easy, Zuko. It's just me."

Suki was there. A hand had gone automatically to one of her golden fans at her waist, though she didn't draw it.

Zuko blinked. "Oh." He let out a breath and looked away.

"I told Liu to stand guard outside your mother's room," Suki added. "They'll be safe."

"I thought I said I wanted to be alone," Zuko muttered.

Suki sighed again and came closer. "Zuko, I understand you're nervous about Azula. We all are. But that's all the more reason to be more careful and vigilant on security."

Zuko hesitated. He reached up to rub the spot between his eyes. "I know," he admitted. "I just—I can't seem to think clearly."

Suki put a gloved hand on his arm. "Maybe you should go back and try to get some more sleep," she suggested.

Zuko shook his head vigorously and backed up a step. "No, I've had enough sleep for one night. I'm going to do some firebending forms. It helps me think."

"All right then," Suki relented, though she was watching him warily. "I'll be out here standing guard if you need anything."

"Thanks, Suki."

Zuko turned back for the door and, taking one last steadying breath, pushed on inside.

The enormous room was just as it had always been. Rows upon rows of seats rose up in tiers, surrounding the raised platform of the white floor below, where the official Agni Kai matches took place.

Mostly Zuko practiced his firebending forms in one of the training halls close to his room, but lately he had been coming here instead. It was the site of one of the most painful memories of his life—but it didn't hurt so much now as it once had. In fact, now that he was free from the burn of shame that had once always accompanied any thought of it, it felt more like a place of triumph.

Zuko took up his stance. He breathed deeply, trying to steady his agitated nerves.

Azula's voice drifted back to him again, full of anger and disdain.

" _Same as always, Zuzu. Even when you're strong, you're weak."_

He didn't conjure any flames, instead simply following the form, as they used to do in practice when they were children. He kept his eyes closed, moving in slow motion, shifting fluidly from one form to the next. He breathed deeply.

" _Even when you're strong, you're weak."_

Against his will, dark, flickering images from the nightmare rose again in his mind. His mother, with a different face, a different mind, pinned against a wall, with blue flames inches from her face. Three cloaked forms standing on a rooftop, his unconscious younger half-sister clutched in their grip. A lone figure, waiting for him in the depths of an ancient crypt, her painted lips spread in a wide, taunting smile...

He swallowed convulsively. He forced himself to suck in a deep breath again, but when he let it out, it shook and rattled through his teeth.

He knew he only had himself to blame for all this. When he had decided Azula would accompany them on their journey to find his mother, he had been the one to agree to let her travel unbound, with dignity—and of course, she had escaped.

From there, it had been pure madness, of the kind only Azula could create. When she had made her inevitable return, she had kidnapped many of the children of the city, including his ex-girlfriend Mai's younger brother Tom-Tom, and his own half-sister Kiyi, all the while dressed as the dreaded Kemurikage, spirits of legend who were said to carry off poor-behaving children in the night. Terror had descended on the city, driving it to near chaos—just as Azula had intended.

Even though it had all worked out, Zuko knew he had let down the people of the Fire Nation badly. When he had ordered the gates of the city to be sealed to prevent anyone from leaving, and commanded the soldiers to have all the homes entered and searched by force, he had been driven by fear, not reason, and he had broken the people's trust. So many desperate to escape with their children—and instead of reassuring them, giving them courage, he had shut them in, and treated them like criminals.

Not only that, but of course the measures had yielded no results. He had been helpless—had it been part of Azula's plan to hurt any of the children she had taken captive, it might have all too easily become a tragedy of unspeakable proportions.

Zuko had apologized, formally and publicly, for his conduct as their Fire Lord, and vowed to do better in the future. But as of now, he didn't feel he had done anything to make amends for his failure. Azula was still out there, like a shadow prowling through the night, and the people were not safe. Not his mother, not Kiyi, not Mai nor Mai's brother Tom-Tom, nor anyone else.

Zuko took another deep, steadying breath, as he slowly turned his arms, stretching them out before him, palms forward.

He had to do something. It was his responsibility as Fire Lord to fix it before anything worse happened. But how? What could he do? What _should_ he do?

As he turned his arms back again, Zuko traced back through the tangle of decisions that had led them to this point. It had all begun with allowing Azula to travel with them, and so freely. Failing to put her back in the institution where she had been, where she could be monitored, kept from hurting herself or anyone else.

Zuko's intent had been to capture her and put her back there. No, he had actually been planning to put her back in her old room—under guard, of course—to allow her the comfort of some familiarity, and greater dignity as a member of the royal family.

But now he wondered if that would really be adequate. The mental institution had held her for a long time, but that was when she was half mad, unable to plot and scheme as she had before. And even then, she had managed to find an opportunity to outsmart him and nearly get away. He had also been told that there were other escapees from the institution, and Zuko suspected those escapees were Azula's new fellow Kemurikage, which Azula would have had to have broken out herself.

Now that Azula was back to full strength, both physically and mentally, he wasn't sure, even if they did manage to capture her, if they would be able to hold her. Unlike his father, she was still in full command of her bending. She was dangerous, in so, so many ways.

So far, Zuko had been leaving the search for Azula up to his soldiers. As much as it had pained him to order it, he had had wanted posters put up around the city, and elsewhere in the Fire Nation, and offered generous rewards to anyone who could provide information leading to her recapture. He did not like being forced to hunt down a member of his own family like a common criminal, but he didn't see he had much choice.

However, perhaps that had been the wrong course of action. He had been so relieved simply to have the children back safe and sound, and eager to resume his duties as Fire Lord and begin to earn back a little of that trust he had lost, he had left the capture of Azula to fairly passive means. But, maybe it was his responsibility as Fire Lord to go after her himself, take care of this threat personally. The soldiers hadn't been able to find so much as a clue to where she was, but he was Azula's target—in a sense, at least. She might reveal herself to him where she wouldn't to the common soldier. He could stop the threat of more calamities. Prevent any more fear.

A cold realization came upon him, creeping up his neck and seeping into the deepest recesses of his mind.

He might capture Azula, and he might bring her back to the institution. But she could break out again—was likely to. And if she did, the terror in the capital would repeat itself, again and again, as she tried to force upon him her mad vision for his future. He knew his sister—she was not afraid of cruelty, of acts too horrific to describe. It would only be a matter of time before she did something that he wouldn't be able to reverse. A tragedy too terrible to think.

It was his responsibility to stop that before it could happen. And there was only one possible way to put a permanent end to Azula's madness. Only one solution.

Zuko slowly closed his hands into fists. They shook slightly, but then he breathed again, and they were suddenly steady.

 _This is my responsibility,_ he thought. As Fire Lord, as brother to Kiyi, and son of his mother. There was only one solution to ensure Azula never threatened any of those he loved ever again.

Zuko slowly opened his eyes. He spun with a shout, and a blast of fire exploded from his fist. It blazed like a dragon over the arena, spitting flames over the white floor, leaving a trail of black ash in its wake. It struck the far side with a thundering explosion.

"Never again, Azula," he said quietly. "You won't play any more games with anyone, ever again."

He took one last steadying breath, then turned his back on the crackling flames, to begin making his preparations.

* * *

A/N: I know I'm not the only one who got an implied Zuki vibe from the comics. I really think those scenes are just supposed to develop Suki and Zuko's friendship, since they had hardly any interaction in the show, but they do it in such a way it's like they're deliberately trying to stir up fan speculation...

(For anyone who hasn't read the comics—Suki and the other Kyoshi warriors are there because in The Promise, Zuko found himself the target of assassins, and so Mai called them in to act as his bodyguards.)

I first came up with the concept for this story and wrote the initial rough draft about two years ago, back when I'd only just finished with the series. Looking back, I see the characters somewhat differently now, and I don't know if I would still write them quite this way. But one thing I enjoyed about the original series was seeing the complexity of the characters in how they would sometimes do things that might defy your expectations, but completely made sense given their situation or history, and I wanted to do something similar here. I hope for anyone who decides to stick with me, you'll be able to enjoy it anyway.

Anyway, thank you so much to anyone who's reading this. If there's anyone out there who's watched the original show but not read the comics, and finds any of the details here confusing, let me know in a signed review and I'd be happy to answer any questions. (On the story of finding Ursa from the comic _The Search_ , there will be more revisiting of those events next chapter.)

I'm going to try to have the next chapter up within the next couple weeks, but until then, if you have a moment, let me know what you thought so far! C: (Of course I'm very much open to writing evaluations and critiques. I'm always curious what might come across as off or odd from someone else's fresher perspective.) Well, until next time~

Posted 7/9/18


	2. Kindness

.

* * *

Chapter 2: Kindness

* * *

The throne room of the Fire Nation palace had, during the reign of Fire Lord Azulon and Fire Lord Ozai, been a dark, shadowy place. Giant, grand pillars rose to the high ceiling on either side of the deep red carpet, which formed a path to the raised dais at the end, upon which the Fire Lord was meant to sit—separated from those who dared enter his presence by a wall of flame.

Zuko did not care for the throne room, and so far had avoided receiving guests or diplomats within its walls. The room had no windows, and thus the only way to provide light was with his own flames—flames meant to intimidate, make subjects feel small and helpless as they gazed up into his features lit from below, and the gleaming form of the great golden dragon glaring down from behind him.

Zuko pressed a hand to one of the pillars, then sighed to himself as he reached up and carefully removed the five-pointed gold head ornament from his topknot. The object glinted in the firelight before he stowed it in a safe place in his robe.

"You wished to see me, Fire Lord?"

Zuko turned, and his eyes fell on the willowy form of a woman, just approaching middle-age, standing in the shadow of a pillar. He couldn't see her face clearly until she stepped out into the firelight.

"Mother," Zuko said. He hesitated briefly. "Yes. I was looking for you in the gardens where Kiyi was playing, but..."

She dipped her head. "I had a bit of a headache, so I stayed indoors today. The servants told me where to find you."

The room was quiet for a moment, but for the crackling flames. Zuko wondered how many times his mother had visited this room under less pleasant circumstances, when his grandfather had been Fire Lord. He considered putting out the flames so the atmosphere wouldn't be quite so grim—but then the room would be entirely cast in darkness.

At last, Zuko said, a bit awkwardly, "Zuko is fine. You really don't need to be so formal, Mother."

The reserve in her face seemed to vanish, and she laughed. "What a confusing boy you are. Didn't you say you were the Fire Lord now, and you didn't want me to treat you like a child?"

Zuko rubbed the back of his neck ruefully. He remembered now, he had indeed said something to that effect. "I take it back. I have lots of subjects to call me Fire Lord. But I only have one mother."

Her smile widened, and she approached.

Zuko was quietly surprised at the change that had come over his mother in the last month. When they had first arrived at the palace, she had seemed nervous, afraid of her own shadow. And her fearful agitation had only intensified when Zuko's half-sister Kiyi had been abducted. However, these days she seemed genuinely at peace.

Zuko remembered why he had been looking for her, and his smile shrank slightly. He turned away, facing the wall of flames before the dais, and folded his hands behind his back.

"I will...be going away for a time, Mother. There is something I must take care of personally. But, I have asked Uncle Iroh to watch the palace in my stead—you will be perfectly safe. And Kiyi, and Ikem."

His mother was quiet for a moment, and Zuko did not turn to see her expression.

"Is...now a good time?" she asked slowly, cautiously. "With what just happened here in the capital not so long ago, knowing that the Fire Lord is gone could make the people uneasy."

Zuko forced himself to turn to face her, his expression solemn. "That's why I have to go. I have to go after the people who kidnapped Kiyi and the others—no one else in the nation can be allowed to go through what we went through."

His mother blinked, startled. "The people who kidnapped Kiyi? But I thought you arrested Ukano, and the New Ozai Society was disbanded."

"It was," he said. "But—the ones in the cloaks, pretending to be the Kemurikage, escaped. As Fire Lord, it's my responsibility to track them down and make sure they aren't able to do something like this again."

Zuko didn't quite meet her eyes as he spoke. He hadn't had the heart to tell his mother that Azula was the one who had masterminded the kidnapping of Kiyi and the other children. As far as the general public was aware, Ukano, as the founder of the New Ozai Society, had been behind it all, and the Kemurikage imposters had been working under his orders. He saw no reason to disturb her peace of mind.

His mother's eyes seemed to study him for a long moment. "Are they that much of a threat?" she asked at last. "Without Ukano to lead them?" She didn't say it fearfully, or with nervously darting eyes. Instead, her gaze was steady, her voice matter-of-fact.

Zuko's eyes dropped away. "I'm afraid they are."

He was surprised when he felt the tips of her fingers touch his cheek. He looked up again, startled.

"Zuko," she said softly, "my dear son. I won't try to stop you, but—be careful, won't you?"

Zuko reached up to put a hand over hers. "I will, Mother," he promised.

She smiled, so wide that the age lines that had begun to form at the corners of her eyes wrinkled. However, as she gazed back at him, the smile flickered briefly—like a cloud passing over the sun.

She half turned away. "Be safe on your journey, my son," she murmured.

Zuko hesitated. He realized he couldn't let her go like this—not with the danger of what he was about to do next looming over his head, and uncertain when he would next see her again.

Zuko reached out and caught her by the hand. "Mother?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"

She brushed at something in her eye, then partly turned back. The smile, as always so full of strength, returned, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. "No, it's nothing," she said. She hesitated, and for a moment, the smile was tinged with a strange wistfulness. "Only—as you know, I bear many well-deserved regrets."

She gazed up into his face, and as she did, the smile faded slightly. Almost as though her hand had a will of its own, her fingers rose once again, until they lightly brushed the angry red, grotesquely melted skin around his left eye. A quiet sigh escaped her.

"How much you have suffered," she murmured. "Yet—so strong in the face of it all."

Zuko reached up to catch the hand in his. He gripped it tightly, drawing her fingers away from the scar. "I'm fine, Mother," he said earnestly. "More than fine. I don't want you to worry about the past. I mean it when I say—when I finally found you, and I found out that, all this time, you had been safe and happy, all I felt was relieved."

Ursa smiled again, and squeezed his hand slightly. "Even from the time you were young," she said softly, "I saw such kindness in you. After everything you went through, I wouldn't have expected you to hold onto it—but somehow, you have grown even kinder than you were as a boy. Kind enough to forgive such a terrible mother who would abandon her own children."

Zuko felt a twist of discomfort in his stomach. He was not nearly so kind as she thought—however, he forced the thought from his mind.

Instead, Zuko tightened his hand around hers, as though he could somehow squeeze all the heartache and regret from her. There were so many things he could say—how he understood that she had had to leave, that she hadn't had a choice, that he could never blame her for forgetting her life here at the palace, when all she could have done for them was worry herself into an early grave.

However, before he could fully arrange the words, his mother's eyes suddenly drifted away, to gaze at the blazing flames rising before the Fire Lord's dais. The smile, for a moment, faded to nothing, leaving behind only the drawn features of a weary woman, who had lived horrors beyond what he could probably imagine.

The smile returned after a moment, but the sadness, the deep weariness, still lingered. "But, I suppose I will at least be getting half of what I deserve," she said. "As there is one other I abandoned who I know will not forgive me."

Zuko felt himself go very still. He barely breathed.

"It was Azula who made up my mind in the end," she murmured musingly. "She came at me with such ferocity, screaming accusations of how I was conspiring against her, sabotaging her entire life—and even though I did not remember her, and I could see from the madness in her eyes that she was not entirely rational, in that moment I felt deep in my core that, in some way, perhaps it was true. I had abandoned her, chosen to forget she existed, and if she could really think such things about me, then surely I had not loved this girl, who was as much my daughter as Kiyi, as I should."

Her eyes closed, and she turned her head half away. She said quietly, "When you came, and you and Ikem told me everything... There was a part of me that recoiled. Not from you, but the change I knew this truth would wreak on the peaceful life I had loved so much. A part of me—a part I can now only be deeply ashamed of—hoped that you would return to where you had come from, and nothing had to change."

Her eyes opened. And their usual calm, occasionally tinged with a distant sadness, suddenly blazed with intensity. "But," she said in a low voice that quavered with emotion, "seeing my own daughter who I didn't remember, so enraged, looking as though she were in so much pain that she could hardly bear it—I wanted to remember. I _needed_ to remember. Although I knew I probably wouldn't get it, I wanted another chance to be the mother I had failed to be."

Zuko didn't know what to say. He felt something in his chest constrict, and he couldn't look at her.

He felt as her hand gripped his wrist, the other coming to touch his shoulder. And he had no choice but to turn back to her, to stare into her burning eyes.

"Zuko," she whispered. "Has there been any word? Any sign...?"

Zuko didn't answer, instead shifting his gaze to stare hard at the far dark wall.

He was relieved as her gaze dropped, and she seemed to take that as a no.

"I see her in my dreams," she murmured. "You said she could take care of herself, and I'm sure that's true—yet I can't help but remember the madness. She was so out of her right mind, and I start to wonder. Can she really be all right? Is she really safe?"

Zuko still couldn't find words to reply. A queasy, hard lump had formed in his throat, and he thought he might be sick.

Was he really making the right decision? Was taking out Azula—his own sister—the best thing for the people he cared about?

A memory of his own words drifted back to him.

" _Come back! Please, I can help you. I want to help you!"_

He had said that back then, and he had meant it, with everything he was. He could have killed Azula before now. When they had fought on the edge of that cliff, he could have let her fall, and been rid of this terror that plagued him. Azula had assumed he had spared her because there was something he wanted from her, but the truth was that, even though they had never had the relationship of brother and sister that a part of him might have wanted, she was still his sister. His family.

His will wavered. Maybe it didn't have to be this way. Maybe he could just capture her, as before. Maybe he could still try to help her.

Azula's voice whispered at the back of his mind.

" _You're such a constant disappointment, Zuzu. Even when you're strong, you're weak."_

Zuko closed his eyes, and took a slow, steadying breath. When he opened them again, they were resolved.

"Mother," he said quietly. "I know you're not going to want to hear this—I know how you feel about Azula, and you want to help her. I've wanted to help her, too. But...the thing is...Azula just doesn't care about anyone. She never has. All she can understand is fear and control, and she will do anything to anyone to get what she wants. You asked me before if, wherever she was, she might be happy, and I told you I didn't know what being happy would even mean for Azula. But the truth is, I know—Azula is only ever happy when she's hurting other people, when she's in control and people are afraid of her."

Zuko took a breath. "Mother, I know you care about her, but I don't want to see you suffer over her anymore. So...maybe it's time to let go. I know you never loved Father, you knew what kind of man he was. Well, Azula is exactly the same as he is, and she's never going to change."

The room was silent. Not even the faint rustle of bird wings or the distant shout of the nobles' children playing in the courtyard penetrated the thick walls.

Zuko wondered if he was about to get a reprimand, and he steeled himself.

However, his mother regarded him with an expression that he didn't fully understand. She looked away, toward the flickering flames before the raised platform, and her brow creased very slightly in thought. When her gaze finally returned to his, she spoke.

"As you were growing up, I was often plagued by one great fear," she said quietly. "And when I was banished, and forced to leave the palace, and you, I feared it all the more. When I wrote that letter to Ikem that I suspected Ozai would intercept, a part of me really wished that it might have been true—that you were Ikem's son, and not Ozai's."

She bent her head, and a single shiver wracked her frame. "I feared. I feared that someday, under Ozai's influence, you would grow up to be exactly like him. Cruel, merciless. I feared my beloved son would make those under him suffer as his father did. Yet somehow—no thanks to me—you managed to overcome his legacy."

She closed her eyes briefly. However, when she opened them again, they were suddenly strong. Full of resolution and certainty.

"But," she said, "if you had grown up to be like your father, I still would have loved you all the same. And I love Azula, too."

Zuko did not move, but he felt as she drew him into an embrace, and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you, Zuko," she whispered. "Come back safely."

"I will," Zuko answered mechanically.

She drew back. Her hand lingered on his cheek for a moment, before she turned away and slipped out through the hall doors.

Zuko was surprised to feel something wet on his face, and he reached up to quickly brush it away.

He knew his mother would not be happy with what he was about to do. She would be shocked, maybe horrified. But even so, he couldn't change his course now. Azula was his sister—which was why it was his responsibility to do something about her, before anyone more could suffer. This was his only way of helping her now.

Zuko took a deep, steadying breath. Then, putting out the flames before the dais, he turned and strode back through the darkness.

* * *

"Leaving?"

Zuko froze for a half second. Then he turned to see the last person he would have expected standing just inside the door to his chamber, arms folded, leaning against the wall, and looking bored out of her mind, as usual.

"Mai?" he said uncertainly. "How...did you get in?"

It was a stupid question. Ty Lee was out standing guard right now, and would of course have let Mai in if she asked. But his brain had frozen over, and he couldn't seem to think.

Mai ignored the question. Instead, she pushed herself off from the wall, and approached. Her expression was, as always, hard to read, except he thought her yellow eyes looked sharper than usual.

If it had been any other day, he would have been happy to see her. Ever since he had heard about her break up with Kei Lo, he had been hoping that they might get a chance to talk. Maybe, possibly, even get back together. But on the eve of his departure for more secret plans, of which he had not told her, already dressed in his traveling clothes, the timing couldn't have been worse.

"I know what you're going to do," she said abruptly.

Zuko blinked, then sighed, not sure if he should grimace or be relieved. "Let me guess. Ty Lee told you?"

She gave a curt dip of the head.

Zuko didn't move, trying to give himself time to think. He had put a lot of thought into who to bring with him on this trip. Azula had at least six new minions, who had posed as her fellow Kemurikage, and he knew it would just be foolish to attempt to go after her all on his own. The two strongest members of his personal guard had seemed like the obvious choices, and so he had already informed Suki and Ty Lee. He'd had trouble gauging their reactions—neither had seemed very happy at the idea, but whether they agreed with the reasoning he had given them or not, neither had tried to put up a very strong argument, for which he was relieved.

He probably shouldn't have been surprised Ty Lee had gone to Mai. They had been the best of friends growing up, and now that they had left Azula, they seemed to have grown even closer. Ty Lee was loyal to the Fire Lord as a personal guard, but her first loyalty was probably to Mai, and Zuko couldn't blame her for that.

"So," Mai said in a dead tone. "You were just going to take off to go after Azula, and not even say a word to me."

Her eyes narrowed, and for the first time, some emotion crept into her face. "Look, Zuko," she said in a low, cold voice. "Maybe I'm not your girlfriend anymore, and you're not obligated to tell me every little thing. But it never occurred to you that maybe I have a right to know about this, too? I had as much to do with Azula as you did. Probably more."

Mai focused her penetrating stare on him for a long minute. Then her eyes flickered away, to glare at the far corner. "But I bet you didn't think of that," she said in a low, bitter voice. "I bet I didn't even cross your mind."

She turned her back on him.

"Wait!" he blurted. "That's not true."

Mai paused, and turned to regard him coolly over her shoulder.

Zuko hesitated. The truth was, when he had been trying to think of how to build a team to go after Azula, Mai had been the very first person he had thought of. Not only did she possess an array of deadly skills and had experience going up against Azula, but he had felt confident she would understand how dangerous Azula was, and how important it would be to stop her as soon as possible. Aside from possibly his uncle, he trusted no one more.

However, he had talked himself out of saying anything to her. After all, if Azula did go after the people he cared about most, Mai was likely to be one of her first targets. The thought of bringing Mai within striking distance of Azula again made him sick with dread.

"I'm sorry," he said. His forehead felt hot. "I should have told you. I just—I knew if I told you, you would want to come, and I didn't want you to."

He grimaced. Somehow, when he was talking to Mai, things always managed to come out wrong.

Zuko tried again. "What I mean is, you've already faced Azula for me once, and I didn't want you to have to face her again. I mean, I just don't know what I would do if Azula were to—if you were—"

Zuko floundered to find the right words, and at last Mai cut him off with a sigh.

"It's okay, Zuko. I know what you're trying to say."

He looked up, at once hopeful and wary. "You do?"

Mai drew one of her throwing knives, so fast it seemed to appear from thin air. "And, as usual, you're being an idiot. If you're going after Azula, I'm coming with you. Azula took Tom-Tom, and she threatened and manipulated my father. You're not the only one with a score to settle."

Zuko shook his head rapidly. "This isn't about scores or revenge. It's about—keeping the Fire Nation safe."

"I know," Mai replied. "And if there's one thing I'm sick of, it's been sitting around, waiting to see if Azula will show up and make us pay for what we did. I want to take the fight to her. That's the only way we'll ever have any peace."

Zuko nodded slowly. He knew exactly what she meant. He hesitated a moment longer. "...All right," he said at last. "If you want to come with us...I know I can probably use all the help I can get."

Mai didn't smile, just nodded once. "Who else is coming?" she wanted to know. "Besides Suki and Ty Lee. And don't tell me that's all you have."

Zuko paused. "I want to keep it small, so we can stay inconspicuous. But—there is one more person I'm planning to ask. I just hope she agrees."

"One more?" Mai said slowly.

Zuko nodded. "When we set out, we won't be heading out after Azula right away. There's someone we're going to go pick up first. Someone who defeated Azula the first time."

Mai studied his face for a long minute. "The Water Tribe girl?" she said at last.

Zuko nodded once.

Mai's expression didn't change. "What about the Avatar?"

Zuko's gaze dropped. "I won't be asking him, this time. He won't like what we're doing."

Mai's expressionless face betrayed the hint of a frown. "And you really think the girl will be any different? She _is_ his girlfriend. Will she really be okay with you hunting down your sister? Killing her?"

Zuko flinched at the word, then steadied himself. If they were going to do this, he had to get used to it. He closed his eyes.

For a moment, a memory played in his mind—a pair of cold blue eyes scrutinizing his every move with suspicion and loathing.

" _You might have everyone else buying your 'transformation'.._. _So let me tell you something right now. You make one step backward, one slip up, give me one reason to think you might hurt Aang—you won't have to worry about your destiny anymore. Because I'll make sure your destiny ends."_

Zuko opened his eyes. "I don't know. But I'm going to find out."

* * *

A/N: I worried for a long time that the first part of this chapter went on too long for being so early on in the story. (Consequently, I did some editing after the initial post to cut it down a little, and clean up a few other things.)

I struggled a little with how to portray Ursa here. I know quite a few people were a bit disappointed with how she came across in _The Search_ —because we knew in a general way that she had killed Azulon, I think there was some expectation we would really see a darker side to her, beyond the kindly mother we see from Zuko's perspective in _Zuko Alone_. However, I wanted to preserve the spirit of her portrayal as we see it in the comics as much as I could, especially her attitude toward Azula. (And actually, I personally felt finding out she willingly chose to forget her children existed was kind a dark reveal anyway.)

Again, for those who haven't read the comics:

\- Mai split up with Zuko in _The Promise_ after finding out he was secretly meeting with Ozai.

\- Kiyi is the daughter Ursa had during her banishment while her memories were gone, and Zuko's half-sister.

\- The New Ozai Society was a political group formed with the intent of restoring Ozai to the throne, led by Mai's father, Ukano.

\- The Kemurikage are dark spirits of legend believed to carry off misbehaving children in the night, although the Kemurikage that appear in Smoke and Shadow turn out to really be Azula, along with some girls Azula broke out of the mental institution.

Anyway, that's it for now. Hoping to get the next chapter up within the next week or two, and as always, if you have a moment, let me know what you thought. Hope to see you next time!

Posted 7/16/18, Revised version posted 8/17/18


	3. Last Resort

.

* * *

Chapter 3: Last Resort

* * *

Beneath the eery glow of the full moon stood an old woman, bent with age, her thin, boney hands casting long shadows along a dark forest floor. Before her lay a trembling figure, his red-trimmed armor only just visible in the darkness.

" _They tried to wipe us out,"_ the old woman whispered, in a voice strangely hypnotic, even as it rasped with age and revulsion. _"We have to fight these people whenever we can, wherever they are, through whatever means necessary..."_

The armored man's limbs jerked, stricken as though in the grips of some terrible sorcery. His terrified eyes flashed upward, to stare into the face of his tormenter—however, the old woman with the lined face and gnarled hands was gone. Instead, another dark figure stood in her place, fingers splayed, eyes cold as ice...

* * *

Katara gave a violent jerk in her sleeping roll and sat bolt upright.

For a moment she sat in the darkness, panting, beads of sweat rolling down her face. At last she closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath.

A nightmare. Just another nightmare.

Katara slowly laid herself back down. However, as she stared up at the icy ceiling of her old home, she couldn't stop the images that continued to play behind her eyes.

An old woman with silver hair beneath a full moon, hands raised like a puppeteer manipulating her marionettes. A man in red and black armor twisting, writhing against the hard cold ground beneath him.

In spite of the mounds of fur blankets lying over her, Katara shivered.

Just a dream—except that it wasn't.

Katara slowly sat up once again, ignoring the chill of the icy air on her skin. Her eyes shifted automatically to the two figures curled uncomfortably in the corner.

Sokka had insisted on having some kind of late-night meeting—something about making plans for what to do about the future of the South. Bitterness still lingered from all the lost loved ones over the course of the war, and many still did not look favorably on the Fire Nation, even with its new leader. Consequently, the people so far had resisted all offers from the Fire Nation to help rebuild. If she, Aang, and Sokka were going to help ensure a peaceful and harmonious new world, it was an obstacle they would eventually have to overcome.

However, Katara had suggested they leave the important discussion until morning. As usual, Sokka had ignored her, and naturally he had been the first one to fall asleep about five minutes in. She and Aang had been quick to follow suit.

Katara had expected in coming back to the South that they would finally have a chance to relax. To just enjoy spending time with family, and simply being home again. But the unrest and political upheaval had been so acute, and there was so much work to be done with rebuilding, that by the end of each day, she found she didn't have the energy to do much more than throw herself down on her sleeping roll. And she knew Aang and Sokka were about the same way.

As Katara gazed on Aang and her brother where they were still fast asleep, she felt a sudden swell of fondness. However, as her eyes lingered on Aang, she noticed that, even with his new heavy coat, he was shivering slightly. Automatically, she reached for the pile of extra blankets she always kept in the tent corner, and grabbed a couple, draping them over his curled form gingerly, trying not to wake him. His shivers slowed, then stopped, and he smiled goofily in his sleep before rolling over, muttering something about baboons and onion banana juice.

Katara smiled a moment. However, the dark, familiar dream once again slithered its way into her thoughts, and the smile slowly faded.

Katara knew she wouldn't be getting back to sleep anytime soon—what she needed was some fresh air. Some space to maybe go through a few waterbending forms, and clear her mind.

Careful not to wake the others, Katara slipped out of her sleeping bag, and shrugged on her heavy coat. Then, casting one last glance at a still-soundly sleeping Aang, she silently slipped out the blue door flap and into the night.

The air was brisk against her face as Katara made her way through the village. Slipping past the guards posted at the perimeter, in a moment she was beyond the edge of the collection of fur tents and ice structures.

Katara made her way along the edge of the shoreline, the uneven path of snow and ice glowing silver in the light of the partial moon. Only when the village had faded some ways in the distance did she finally pause. She turned her eyes to gaze upon the broad dark ocean, the choppy waves slapping against the ice.

Against her will, the images from her dream rose once again in her mind, dark and haunting. An old woman standing under a full moon, face contorted with wild glee in the midst of hatred and bitterness, a man in red and black armor laying on the hard ground, trembling, eyes full of terror.

Katara shook her head, pressing her fingertips to the sides of her temples, trying to shut them out.

Ever since returning to the South, Katara had been plagued by this dream nearly every night. She could not seem to escape the nagging thought that Hama, the old southern waterbender they had met on their journeys in the Fire Nation, would be here, if not for her crimes. Hama would be here, teaching Katara more techniques of the lost Southern style, rather than in a dank, Fire Nation prison cell somewhere. Instead, her legacy lived on in Katara through only one real technique—and what a terrible technique it was.

As it was, Katara had not even had the heart to ask Gran-Gran if she had known Hama.

Katara shook her head, raising her arms and taking up a familiar waterbending stance. She couldn't let herself keep dwelling on that. There were much more important things to worry about—like what Aang had told them after arriving in the South.

Aang had stayed behind in the Fire Nation for a time, in order to help Zuko with what appeared to be a spirit problem. However, according to Aang, the unseen enemy had turned out not to be restless spirits at all, but Azula.

Katara took a deep, steadying breath, slowly bringing one arm forward, while drawing the other back.

Azula on the loose and causing havoc was bad news. She could strike anytime, anywhere, and she was ruthless to the core. Stopping her the first time had been terrifying enough—Katara had very nearly met her end in the process, as had Zuko.

An image flickered through Katara's mind, for once that had nothing to do with her dreams. A wide cavern filled with strangely luminescent crystals. Aang, his eyes and tattoos glowing white as he ascended, the very air vibrating with power. A flash of light, and suddenly his limp form falling—

Katara shook her head vigorously. That wouldn't happen again. Aang was truly a full-fledged Avatar now, and if Ozai at the height of his powers had been no match for him, then surely Azula was no threat, at least in that sense. Only—Aang had faced Ozai in a head-on fight. Azula was crafty. She struck from the shadows when you were least expecting it.

 _Azula is out of her mind,_ Katara reminded herself. _She might be dangerous, but nothing like she was at Ba Sing Se._ Azula, wherever she was, was far away. She couldn't hurt them now.

Katara closed her eyes, and took another deep breath.

She heard a crunch of snow behind her, and she froze, mid-form. Her eyes opened.

Probably just Aang—if he had woken up and seen her empty sleeping bag, of course he would have known where to find her.

However, slowly, carefully, still following the basic waterbending form, she turned on the spot, drawing up a wisp of water from the sea as she did so, bringing it up to circle around her like a snake—a ready weapon, just in case.

Katara completed the turn, and her eyes fell on the figure standing in the snow behind her.

The water snake hovering beside Katara fell to the snow with a splash, and she could only stare in astonishment.

" _Zuko?"_

Zuko stood in the snow some ways back, fidgeting uneasily and looking ridiculously out of place in a bulky fur coat and heavy leather boots. He raised a hand awkwardly. "Hey," he said.

For a minute, Katara had such trouble wrapping her head around the fact that Zuko was here, in the arctic of all places, that she couldn't respond.

"Uh," he said. "My ship is moored down the coast. You probably can't see it from here. Suki, Ty Lee, and Mai are with me, too."

Katara glanced vaguely in that direction, then hesitantly turned back. She was growing more mystified by the moment. "Is...there an emergency?" she asked uncertainly. "I can go get Sokka and Aang."

She didn't add that it had probably been wise for Zuko not to try to enter the village. Most of the Southerners understood that Zuko was not the same kind of Fire Lord as his father, but there were still those hardliners who had not forgotten the terrible pain and grievances of the past, and despised the very sight of a Fire Nation flag or soldier's uniform—particularly in the middle of the night.

After a moment of silence, Katara decided to take the initiative and started past him. "Stay here, Zuko," she said. "I'll be right—"

Zuko's gloved hand was suddenly gripping her shoulder, clamped down like a vice. She slowly turned her head.

"Actually," he said, his breath coming out in icy sheets. "I'm glad I caught you alone. You're the one I needed to talk to." Though the snowy landscape was barren and empty in all directions, he spoke in a rough voice barely above a whisper.

Katara stared back at him, and she could see the dark waters and partial moon reflected in his eyes.

Although they had been through so much together and Katara had long since considered Zuko one of her closest friends, the intensity in his face was unnerving. She noticed for the first time that the skin below his eyes was dark with lack of sleep, and the normally angular sides of his face had been hollowed out, as though he hadn't been eating properly. She had seen this look in him before—and it never portended anything good.

Katara took an automatic step back, pulling away from his hand. "...Why's that?" she asked cautiously.

"Because I need your help," he said, voice hoarse and low. He hesitated. "Did... Did Aang tell you what happened in the capital? Who was behind it?"

Katara nodded hesitantly. "Azula."

A breath escaped him, and she saw his gloved hands clench into fists. "Yes," he said quietly. "She's back."

His gaze returned to Katara, his expression suddenly fierce. "That's why. Azula is...too dangerous. I need you to help me defeat her, like you did the last time."

Katara's eyes drifted, turning to gaze out over the snow. "Just me?" she asked finally. "Why? Why not Aang and Sokka?"

Katara once again felt his hand on her shoulder, and she turned back to him. His eyes were piercing.

"Because—Aang won't understand. This time, I don't mean to lock Azula up again. This last time I saw her, she was better than she was when she was traveling with us. She was thinking clearly again, always a step ahead. So, to keep my family—the Fire Nation—safe, this time, I'm going to... _end_ her."

Katara stared back at him.

She abruptly threw off his hand and took a sharp step backward.

"What are you talking about, Zuko?" she demanded. "Listen to yourself. Last time, you were insisting she travel with us unbound—after everything she tried to do to us, to you—out of some twisted logic about treating your family with dignity. Now you're talking about hunting her down? _Killing_ her?"

"You don't understand," Zuko said quietly, urgently.

Katara clenched her hands into fists at her sides. "What don't I understand? Explain it to me, Zuko."

Zuko hesitated. "There's something I didn't tell Aang. When I fought Azula in the capital—she told me her real reasons for why she did what she did. Why she manipulated Ukano and the New Ozai Society, why she kidnapped all those kids and started a riot."

Katara eyed him dubiously. "You mean there was another reason besides the fact she's insane?"

Zuko continued, "When we went to find my mother, Azula had that letter our father told her about. You remember—she carried it around wherever she went, because she thought it would prove she was the only rightful heir to the throne. And when she attacked the capital, I thought she was trying to discredit me, to make the people want someone stronger for their Fire Lord, someone more like her. But..."

Zuko took a breath. "When I was there, she told me she accepted she wouldn't be the Fire Lord. At least—not in the sense of actually having the title. She—wants to remake me, turn _me_ into a Fire Lord like my father, or she would have been. Ruthless. Cruel. That's her way of becoming Fire Lord now."

Katara considered that for a long moment. It was a disturbing prospect. Somehow, for reasons she couldn't quite explain, more disturbing than the idea of Azula making a move for the throne herself. But more than anything it was Zuko's reaction to it—the fact it was pushing him to this extreme—that made her stomach contract with sudden nerves.

"And..." she said slowly, careful to keep her voice neutral. "Are you afraid her plans might work?"

Zuko's response was surprisingly immediate. "No. I'm not afraid of that."

His gaze returned to Katara's face, and for a moment he regarded her with features solemn, composed. But as she watched, the expression shifted slightly. The sleepless circles under his eyes seemed suddenly darker against his pale skin, his eyes haunted and half mad with desperation.

"But you have to see what this will mean," he went on in a low rasp. "She's going to keep pushing me, keep forcing me to make these kinds of decisions. If I'm her target, everyone I care about is in danger. This last time, it was Kiyi. Who will she try to use next time?"

He clenched his fist, and glared out at the disturbed snow that led back down the coast. "I know how she works. Every time she'll hit harder and closer to home, until she gets results. Even if I catch her and lock her up, could we really be certain we could keep her there? As long as she's alive, everyone around me is in danger. This isn't about old wounds or payback or anything like that—no matter what's happened between us in the past, I don't hate her. She's my sister, and I would have wanted to help her, if I could. I just—need my mother and everyone else to be safe."

Katara hesitated. She looked away, toward the wide, dark sea. She understood where Zuko was coming from. She, like Sokka and Toph, had believed the only solution to stop Fire Lord Ozai for good was to kill him. As much as she had hated seeing Aang so torn up over being forced to make the decision, the truth was she had expected he would somehow find it within himself to do it. She appreciated and admired Aang for his ideals, but it was also a war, and there had been too much at stake to risk holding back. So she had felt at the time.

And if there was anyone nearly as dangerous as Ozai himself, it had to be Azula. On that flight to the palace with Zuko to face Azula, although killing her had not been specifically on her mind at the time, Katara knew she would have done whatever was necessary to stop her. As it was, Azula had been half mad and the palace strangely empty of the soldiers and Dai Li agents they had expected, weighting the battle in her and Zuko's favor, and she had gotten lucky. However, all that had been before they had known there were other options.

"You know, Zuko," Katara said hesitantly. "If you're that afraid of what Azula might do...you could ask Aang to take her bending, just like he did Ozai. If you feel like your only other choice is killing her. Wouldn't that be better?"

Zuko paused. "I...considered that," he said slowly, haltingly. "But—even if we already had her locked up in prison, which we don't, it's not just her bending that makes her dangerous. Ukano proved that there are still those who would follow my father, even given what he's fallen to now. My father was a great firebender, but that was only one part of how he ruled, and I think Azula is the same. She's always been cunning and resourceful, so even robbed of her bending, I think she'd still find some way to make trouble for us. The kind of trouble that threatens the era of peace we've been trying to build."

Katara was once again quiet for a moment as she pondered that. However, she was not fully convinced. Azula was one of the most powerful and gifted firebenders in the world. And her lightning most of all, deadly and precise, was an enormous part of what made her so terrifying.

"We take that risk with Ozai," she said finally. "What makes Azula any different? Maybe she could still be dangerous in other ways, but without her bending—she would be a lot easier to hold. Why do you need to—take her out?"

Zuko was silent for a long moment. He seemed to be weighing each of his thoughts very carefully, considering how to phrase what it was he wanted to say. He glanced away briefly, gazing back out into the snowy darkness, before at last he forced his eyes back to meet Katara's.

"Ever since I decided," he said quietly, "I've gone over and over it in my mind. I kept asking myself that same question. Why _don't_ I just ask Aang to take away her bending? Wouldn't that be easier? And the truth is—"

His gloved hands closed into fists, and his eyes dropped to the snow at their feet. He gazed down at it with an expression at once both weary and tormented.

"When my father lost his bending, he was left weak, humiliated. A shadow of his former self. I understand why Aang did what he did, being an Air Nomad—but the philosophies of the Fire Nation are different. To be stripped of pride and honor is a fate worse than death."

Zuko raised his eyes back to hers, and there was a surprising fire there, blazing hot even in the icy darkness. "Even after everything Azula has done, she's still my sister. If she has to go down to protect the people I care about, I can accept that, but firebending has always been a part of her, and I don't want to see her left to suffer the same undignified fate as my father. And I don't think she would, either."

Katara stared back at him. From the first time Katara had seen Zuko interact with his sister, her impression was that Azula was his bitterest enemy. Azula had, without hesitation or remorse, pursued him halfway across the Earth Kingdom with the intent of hauling him back to the Fire Nation as a prisoner in disgrace, and found other ways to use and lie to him besides. Unlike with his father, who at one time Zuko had looked up to, Zuko had understandably never seemed particularly sentimental when it came to Azula.

But when they had been traveling with Azula to find Ursa, Zuko had shown signs of wanting something different. Katara had taken this new decision to take her out as a complete turnaround, and maybe it was in some ways, but maybe a part of it, in fact, stemmed from the same source.

"I don't care about what Azula wants," Katara said at last, half turning away. "After everything she's done, I don't think she deserves that kind of consideration." Then, more gently, she added, "But, I understand what you're saying about your mom, Zuko. And there are so many other people Azula might hurt if she's not stopped." Once again that old, dark memory flashed through her thoughts. A bolt of lightning, Aang falling to the cavern floor.

She turned her eyes back to Zuko, and as she did, she felt her doubt and uncertainty slowly beginning to turn toward a reluctant resignation.

"You realize you're asking me to lie to Sokka and Aang," she said quietly.

Zuko didn't meet her gaze. "I know," he said heavily.

"But do you really think just me is going to be enough?" she asked. "If she's really back to full strength—well, Aang told me that on the Day of Black Sun, when he, Toph, and Sokka found her in the throne room, they couldn't even get a hit on her, and that was when she didn't have her bending."

Zuko nodded. "And not just that—when I fought her back in the capital, I saw her redirect lightning. She must have figured it out just by watching me."

Katara shivered at this. Lightning redirection was the one advantage Zuko had had over Azula. Without it, this whole idea was starting to look less and less likely to succeed.

"Zuko..." Katara said slowly. "I'm not sure about this. Even if I decided I was willing to help you, what if it's not enough? What if we go to all the trouble of finding her, and we can't...stop her?"

Katara turned back to him, and was startled to see his gaze fixed on her. Once again, his good eye seemed to burn with that quiet intensity.

"Katara," he said, voice low and rasping. "I think...I think maybe you do have the power to stop Azula. In fact, you may be the only one who can."

Katara didn't know what he was driving at. However, before she could respond, Zuko pressed on.

"That night," he said, voice dropping so low that Katara had to strain to hear him above the light arctic breeze. "The first night we went after the man we thought killed your mother."

Katara felt a chill on her skin. Something cold seemed to slide its way down into her stomach and settle there.

Zuko continued, speaking faster now, as though anxious to have it all out. "That night, you did something to him, the captain of the southern raiders. You used waterbending to stop him where he was, to bring him to his knees. I've never seen anything more powerful. Could you...do the same thing to Azula?"

An old woman with silver hair and a face twisted in a frightful expression. A man in black and red armor held to the ground by an unseen force.

Katara covered her mouth and spun away from him. A sudden sickness seemed to rise in her throat, and she couldn't stop the shudder that wracked her frame.

Finally she let her hand fall from her face, though her fingers curled into a fist and continued to hover, tightly clenched, at her throat. "Did you...tell the others?" she finally managed, shoulders tense. "I mean, Suki, and..."

"No," he said. "I just told them we needed your help."

Katara cast her eyes away from her village, just a pinprick of light in the distance, and instead looked to the dark, barren landscape along the icy coast.

"Zuko," she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, but...I won't use it. Even if I agree to help you, I can't do that. That technique—" Katara shivered. "It's monstrous. It's evil. I used it because I thought that man had killed my mother, but—"

Katara stopped, and couldn't continue.

Zuko waited a moment, then in a gentler tone went on, "I know it's not something you would normally use. But if you have the power to stop Azula, without much risk to you or the rest of us, I think we should use it. This is the only exception I'll ever ask you for. Azula can't be allowed to keep doing what she's doing. I won't ask you to kill her, I just—need you to stop her for a moment."

Katara struggled to get control of her expression. When she slowly turned back to face him again, she found that, though the dark circles beneath his eyes and hollows in his cheeks had not faded, the haunted look was gone, and he looked only earnest and determined.

She remembered the look on his face when they had both stood in the catacombs of Ba Sing Se, and he had spoken of losing his mother. She knew he had been sincere then, even if he had chosen to turn against them later. He cared so deeply for his mother, and she knew that Zuko's fear that Azula might go after her was not unfounded. Azula's original purpose in trying to help Zuko find Ursa in the first place had been to remove her from the world. Now if Azula's goal was really to turn Zuko toward tyranny and oppression, it would make sense for her to try to target anyone who had ever had a good influence on him. Ursa would surely be one.

And Aang, Katara realized. Zuko's closest friend, the Avatar, who did nothing but speak of finding peaceful resolutions and balance. Everything Azula would be trying to rid Zuko of. Eventually, Azula would come around to the fact she would have to get rid of him too, if she wasn't already planning it even now.

That single thought, above all else, was enough to undo the very last of her reservations. Katara let out a long, reluctant sigh.

"All right," she said at last, voice low. "I'll come with you, Zuko." She added, "But I can't guarantee I'll use that technique. I can only use it during the full moon for one thing—but even if it is a full moon, I'll only use it as a last resort. I don't want to use that power on anyone if I can avoid it. Not even Azula."

Zuko nodded once, and bowed his head. "Thank you, Katara," he said quietly.

Katara turned away, ready to head back in the direction of the village. "There's a maze of glaciers a few miles west of here," she said. "You would probably be safe to hide there a day or two. If someone spots that Fire Nation ship, it's liable to be attacked, not to mention Aang and Sokka would know you were here." She added bitterly, "I'll have to figure out what to tell them so they won't get suspicious."

"West," Zuko repeated. "I'll do that. Thank you again, Katara. For everything."

Katara didn't reply. She only started walking, back away through the snow.

As she walked, thoughts continued to spin madly in her mind, like a growing storm. The dread of lying to Aang, the dread of helping Zuko do something that, even as she went over the reasoning, still didn't feel altogether right. The dread of finding herself in a situation where she might have to once again use that power she hated.

But, there was still one thing keeping her from changing her mind right then—and that was the dread of what the insane princess might do next.

* * *

A/N: Again, another chapter I really wanted to be much shorter for being earlier in the story. But, in order to set up this premise at least somewhat believably, I felt like there were a few things that really needed to be addressed, particularly Zuko's reasoning, given his overall attitude toward Azula in the comics.

Azula and lightning redirection—there's a scene in Smoke and Shadow where Azula sends a bolt of lightning at Zuko, and he directs it back at her, then she hits him with another bolt of lightning in return. From what I understand, it's basically confirmed in the Smoke and Shadow library edition (a compilation of all three parts of the comic, with writer/artist comments on the side) that she is indeed redirecting lightning there. Zuko doesn't make a huge deal about it at the time (only saying, 'She's gotten strong again'), but I am curious whether we'll find out more about that in upcoming comics.

That's it for now. Let me know if you have any questions/thoughts/critiques, and hope to see you next time!

Posted 7/23/18


	4. The Right Thing

A/N: Hey! Made it back with another chapter. C:

Thanks so much for reading, and for all your comments so far! We're moving into the middle chapters now, setting up the logistics of how things get moving and so on. I always seem to struggle with this part of a plot, but I plan to do my best. (There always seems to be a dilemma between setting up all the necessary details to keep things believable, while also not bogging down the story by getting too technical.)

Anyway, hope you'll enjoy this next chapter, and I'll see you at the end!

* * *

Chapter 4: The Right Thing

* * *

"Are you sure you have to go?"

Katara paused in the entrance to her ice home, flap half pulled back.

Aang was standing in the snow behind her, looking unusually forlorn and strangely small in his abundance of layers. Though it was only early evening, the sky was already dark.

"I'll be back," Katara promised, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. "You—you know I'd want you to come with me, but—" She paused, hoping her cracking voice didn't betray the lie.

She got a hold of herself, and continued in a steadier tone, "With everything still so unstable, I'll feel better with you here. I know Sokka will do his best to keep things under control, but when emotions are running high, I think you're a little better when it comes to peacemaking."

Aang grinned ruefully. "I _am_ the Avatar." However, there was something else in his expression as he studied her face. He seemed worried, uncertain.

Katara struggled to keep her face from giving anything away, in spite of the twisting guilt she felt trying to gnaw a hole through her stomach.

When Katara had told Aang what she had it in mind to do—go to the Earth Kingdom, where there were shops with all kinds of different useful tools and items, to get a few things she would like to have for the rebuilding effort—he hadn't pressed her for details. However, while Sokka had somehow managed to write it off as a _girl thing_ , Aang had seemed concerned, and of course offered to come—even seemed to assume that he would.

Consequently, she had known the best way to ensure Aang stayed here was to use his sense of duty as the Avatar. After all, no one could deny the South needed all the leadership it could get right now—while their dad had been doing his best the past year, the cantankerous leaders of the other tribes, who were still understandably bitter against the Fire Nation after the war, didn't always listen to him.

However, what had seemed like a necessary little deception back when she was mulling it over theoretically, now, in actually carrying it out, felt like a complete betrayal. She could see from the way he accepted her cryptic explanations without prying that he completely trusted her. And so he would surely be upset to learn she was secretly doing something so dangerous, and that so flew in the face of the teachings of his people.

Katara knew she could still back out. She could tell Aang the truth, and Aang could come with her to try to convince Zuko this was wrong. That there had to be another way, and they could all work on finding it together.

However, every time the words rose in her mouth, her mind would return to Ba Sing Se, white lightning flashing through darkness, Azula's painted lips curled in a wide, triumphant smile. And Katara would swallow the words back down, and steel herself.

Instead, she turned her eyes to focus hard on the scattered array of ice houses and tents of their small village. She drew in a silent, steadying breath, before she arranged her face in what she hoped was a more cheerful expression.

"Thank you, Aang."

He nodded, and briefly returned the smile. However, perhaps Aang still saw something off in her face, because the concern was soon back, corners of his mouth turned down.

Aang suddenly blinked, and his eyes lit with an idea. "You want to take Momo?" he asked. "Then you wouldn't be alone. He might like a change of scenery, I don't think he likes the cold." The lemur in question, evidently hearing his name, popped his head up from inside Aang's collar, and Aang reached up to scratch his ear.

Katara glanced away, uncomfortable. "Thanks, but I think I'll manage. Since I'm stowing away on a cargo ship most of the way, I want to make sure I'll be able to keep quiet."

Aang shrugged, but the worried, slightly bewildered look remained. He had offered to let her take Appa, but she had turned him down, with the excuse that Appa would be of more help staying here to aid in the rebuilding—he had been a big help in the shuttling of heavy supplies and various other heavy lifting, and without the urgency of war, there was really no big hurry. She had said instead she would sneak onto the next cargo ship going out, which happened to be next morning.

The cargo ships departed every week or so, and it happened that this week the one in charge was Vorke, a snooty man from the North who was a stickler for all regulations, and had made it a point to say that he allowed no passengers to bum free rides on his ships. Anyone wanting to travel north had to either take their own vessels, or wait for the much less frequent passenger ships, so he insisted. The cover story could not have worked out more perfectly if Katara had written it herself—as a stowaway, no one would be surprised when she didn't get off the ship at the Earth Kingdom.

"Well, okay," Aang said, sighing. "What town did you say you were going to again?"

"A few different towns," Katara said, a little evasively. "Maybe I'll stop in Yu Dao to visit Toph and see how things at the metalbending school are going, I might be going near there."

Aang nodded slowly. He was gazing at her with that same expression again—not suspicion exactly, but worry, knowing instinctively she was not telling him everything, and trying to decide if what she needed most was for him to press her into trusting him with it, or if she just needed space.

Katara felt a lump rise in her throat, thick and hard as a stone, but she swallowed it back down, and finally forced herself to say the words she had already prepared.

"I'm really sorry to leave right now," she said quietly, not meeting his eyes. "I know it's not a good time. It's just..." Her voice cracked slightly as she whispered, "It's just, coming back here again—it's been harder than I thought it would. Of course I always think of the South as my home, but—it's brought back a lot of bad memories I didn't expect."

She thought of the hunched, shadowy form of Hama in her dreams, but even though what she was saying wasn't entirely a lie, it didn't make her feel any better as, voice hoarse with shame, she completed, "I think it will do me some good to get away for a little while."

Katara felt Aang's gaze on her, but she didn't turn her eyes. For one terrifying moment, she was sure he was going to call her out—demand to know her real reasons for leaving so abruptly. Why, after all they had been through, she wasn't telling him what she really planned to do.

However, when Aang spoke, his voice was full of nothing but understanding and kindness. "It's okay, Katara. I could tell this hasn't been easy for you—I know what it's like to leave home and come back later only to find it doesn't feel the same as you remembered. Don't worry, Sokka and I will take care of things here. You just do whatever you feel you have to do."

Katara did look at him then—even as she felt the guilt lance through her like a white-hot dagger. She blinked rapidly and finally whispered, "Thank you, Aang."

All was quiet for a moment, but for the tamping of feet in the snow of other villagers, going about their daily tasks. At last, Katara turned her back on him.

In an unsteady voice, she said, "I need to—check my bag again. Make sure I—got everything."

She started forward, but before she could make it one step, she suddenly felt a gloved hand on her shoulder. She half turned in time to feel Aang pull her into a hug, a tight one, in spite of their heavy coats.

"I'll miss you, sweetie," he whispered in her ear. "Be careful."

Katara's mind returned to the cavern, the bolt of lightning, the fading white light. And, kissing him on the cheek, she whispered back, "You, too."

And, before the truth could rise up her throat and spill out, keeping that scene in the cavern fixed firmly in her mind, she turned away and disappeared through the flap.

* * *

"Is she coming or isn't she?"

Zuko glanced at Mai sitting a little ways down the deck, her sharp voice muffled through the blankets wrapped around her shoulders and head.

As they had been for hours, they were all huddled on the deck, trussed up in blankets like oversized caterpillars and pressed against the side—desperate for even the smallest protection from the biting winds of the arctic South Pole.

"She's coming," Zuko said evenly.

As Katara had suggested, as soon as she had left, Zuko had taken the ship to the series of glaciers to the west, and dropped anchor in the shadow of one opposite the direction of the village. There they had waited the entire day, Mai getting progressively more testy and waspish by the hour. It wasn't until darkness fell again that Katara had first come to find them.

Zuko had been expecting her to come by fishing boat, so he had been shocked when her head emerged from the water. He couldn't imagine how cold the water was, but when she had landed on the deck, she was perfectly dry. Without so much as a greeting, she had quickly explained how she was going to stow away on a cargo ship set to leave the next morning, and how she would abandon the ship and rendezvous with them once the ship was out of sight of the shore.

She had left again, plunging back into the frigid water, before Zuko could so much as say a word.

The sky was purple to the east as dawn approached. Zuko couldn't be sure if the ship would leave right as the sun rose, or if the captain would want to wait for it to get a little lighter in the sky. Either way, it would still take some time for Katara to get there.

"I don't see why we're even here," Mai muttered. "Can we really trust her? How do we know she hasn't already gone straight to the Avatar?"

Zuko had already explained this half a dozen times. "I just saw her last night, and she didn't sound as though she were having second thoughts. If she had told Aang about what we're doing, I'm sure he would already be here."

Mai didn't seem convinced. "Unless they're just trying to stall us," she muttered, so low Zuko could barely catch it. "Wait until we're so freezing they know we can't fight back." She added, "Is this really worth the risk?"

Zuko was a little surprised by Mai's scathing tone, especially since, when they had first left, he had been sure they were both on the same page as far as needing all the firepower they could get. Zuko knew it was probably the cold more than anything—he himself could barely stand it, and combined with the fact he had been unable to sleep properly the entire journey here, he was feeling plenty out of sorts himself.

Which was perhaps why he heard himself responding tersely, "Katara has faced Azula before, and defeated her last time. And she knows what's at stake. Trust me—she'll be here right when she said, and she won't tell Aang about it."

Mai stared back at him for a moment. Then, eyes narrowed slightly, she looked away with a short, impatient breath.

Zuko was feeling miserable. Ever since the sun had gone down, he had felt chilled to his core, and even with the sun about to rise, the cold was still like a heavy weight, sapping his strength and making it hard to think. And arguing with Mai made him feel about ten times worse.

Suki and Ty Lee had both been unusually quiet. Suki would occasionally stand up to patrol the deck, looking for signs of Katara or any stray Water Tribe vessels, but other than that had not contributed to the discussion.

Zuko thought Suki was probably not entirely comfortable with what they were doing. The Kyoshi warriors were not afraid to fight and do what was necessary in the heat of battle—their teachings came down to them from Avatar Kyoshi, after all—but they were not assassins. She had not argued much, but still, he didn't know exactly what she was really thinking.

Ty Lee, similarly, had not been her usual bubbly, perky self. Instead she was quiet, keeping to herself as she stared off into space, as though thinking about something very hard. Zuko was questioning now whether it had been a good idea to get Ty Lee involved at all. Ty Lee was even less the assassin type than Suki, and even if she seemed overall relieved and glad to be away from Azula, that didn't mean she actually agreed Azula absolutely needed to be taken out. Mai might not have any problem with the idea of killing a former friend she didn't really seem to consider a former friend, but Ty Lee was not Mai.

However, there was no question that they could use Ty Lee's chi blocking, especially if they ran into the other Kemurikage, all of whom seemed to be firebenders like Azula. And, after the initial shock of what he was asking her to do, Ty Lee hadn't tried very hard to kick up a protest. He only hoped that was because she was focusing on doing her part to protect the world from Azula's madness, and not contemplating thwarting them at the last minute. Fortunately, he didn't take Ty Lee for the deceptive type—and besides, if there was one person in the world other than himself or Mai who would surely know exactly what Azula was capable of, it ought to be Ty Lee. He would just have to bank on that.

A tinny sound against the side of the ship jarred Zuko out of his thoughts. He blinked, and looked around.

Suki had clearly heard it too, because she pushed her blanket back, half-standing. "I'll go see what that was," she said.

"Probably just a scaup-gull, dropping a shell," Mai muttered. "Again."

Zuko was about to respond, when he suddenly heard a giant rush of water from below, and a twisting funnel of water erupted over the side, spraying them all in icy seawater.

Ty Lee and Mai both gasped, and they all flinched back, averting their faces.

Then the water drew back, retreating back into the ocean, leaving Katara standing on the deck.

Zuko stood up, ready to greet her, but then he saw the dark cloud on her brow, her features hard, and he hesitated, not sure if he wanted to approach her when she was in this mood.

Suki, on the other hand, wasn't intimidated. She finished climbing to her feet and went right to her. "Katara," she said, stretching out an arm in greeting.

Katara blinked, and her face cleared. "Suki," she answered, reaching out to accept her embrace. "It's been a little while, hasn't it? Sokka misses you, he talks about you all the time."

"Took you long enough," Mai grumbled sourly. Climbing to her feet, she let her thick blanket fall from her shoulders, then couldn't quite suppress a shiver at the cold.

Katara glanced toward Mai. However, apparently deciding it wasn't worth starting a fight over, she ignored her, and turned instead to Zuko.

"All right, Zuko. I'm here. What's the plan?"

Zuko nodded to Suki. "First, let's get the ship moving. I'll tell you as we go."

As Suki headed to the helm and Ty Lee got up to follow, Zuko looked back at Katara.

"It's not as foolproof as I'd like," he began. "But I'm Azula's target, and I think we can use that. I ordered my imperial cruiser to depart from the capital, and I've sent word to several Fire Nation port towns that the Fire Lord will be paying them a visit. My uncle suggested a while ago that it might do the people some good for me to travel outside the capital, just to be seen, and to see the people that I'm ruling. The ship has already left, and the people believe I'm on it. A young soldier around my size will be going dressed in my Fire Lord robes and with a scar painted on his face, so he should be able to pass for me, at least from a distance."

Zuko let out a breath. "See, I think if Azula thinks she knows where I'm going to be, she might stake out a place ahead of time. Which is why we'll be traveling ahead of the ship in this smaller, faster boat here. We can travel a few days ahead, and check out the places that my ship is going to port."

Katara considered. "That leaves a lot up to chance," she said finally. "But I guess it's better than nothing. It sounds a bit crazy, like something my brother would come up with. But maybe that means it might just work."

Katara looked out at the ocean ahead. "I'm guessing this means we want to be back in Fire Nation waters as soon as we can."

Zuko nodded. "The sooner we can get in front of the cruiser, the better."

"Right." Katara turned and headed for the foremost point of the ship. As she went, she undid the belt holding on her thick fur coat and, in spite of the chilling cold, she let it fall to the deck, revealing a long black shirt underneath. She raised both hands into the air.

"You might want to hold onto something," she said. "Because it's going to be a rough ride."

* * *

" _I'm going to find Mom."_

Flecks of ice and gray ash swirled in the air as Katara tore back the door flap of her home. Inside, a tall, lean man stood amidst the fur blankets and remnants of the last cooking fire, unfamiliar in his gleaming armor of black and red, a dark helmet over his head. Just before him knelt her mother.

A terror like no other seized her, and Katara's feet jerked her back a step, letting the door flap fall closed. Then, slowly, with a trembling hand, she reached forward again—already knowing what she would find...

The icy snow around her vanished. She stood on the metal floor of a great ship, the silver light of a full moon filtering in through red-tinted windows. A man stood at the controls, his back to her. However, she knew who he was—dressed in the same black and red armor, the same dark helmet over his head.

The terror of before was gone, weakness replaced with a surging strength. Katara stretched out her hand, and the man stiffened, then jerked, twitching in agony as he collapsed to his knees.

Katara stalked forward to get a look at her quarry, but as her eyes fell on the face, she froze—because it was not the man.

A pair of golden eyes stared back at her. A young girl, hardly older than herself, knelt on the metal, and though her arms were held fast against her sides, unable to move, her full red lips spread into a wide, taunting smile.

" _My work here is done,"_ she whispered, in a strange voice, rasping and cracked as though with age. _"Congratulations, Katara..."_

* * *

Katara spasmed, one arm flailing out in reflex.

She heard a sharp gasp beside her, and her eyes flashed open.

Suki was leaning over where Katara lay on her sparse cot, head tilted away, and looking as though she had narrowly avoided being clobbered.

Katara drew back her arm sharply, putting her hand to her mouth. "Oh—Suki—I'm so sorry, I didn't—"

Smiling a little, Suki brushed herself off and went to go sit on a nearby rations crate. "Don't worry about it, I guess I should have been more careful. I just came down to see how you were doing. But..." The smile shifted slightly, her eyebrows coming together with concern. "It looked like you were having a bad dream."

After working for hours at the waves beneath the ship, keeping the ship bucking and jerking along at a pace that felt at least twice its normal speed, Suki and Zuko had finally convinced Katara to go below deck and get some rest. By that point, Katara's arms had felt like lead, and she couldn't argue, and she also suspected her passengers were hoping for a break, too. Mai and Zuko both had spent a fair amount of the time throwing up over the side, and Suki and even Ty Lee, circus acrobat though she was, had looked a little green, too.

Zuko had offered her the captain's quarters, always the best room on the ship, but something about the dominating red of the prominent Fire Nation flag had made Katara decide to come down to the cargo hold instead, and pull out one of the thin, rickety cots, probably used by the lower-ranked deck hands.

Katara looked away. "It was nothing really. I'm fine."

Suki sat silent for a moment. Then, with one hand, she tugged off one of her gloves, and reached forward. Her fingertips brushed Katara's temple, and came away coated in beads of sweat.

"Are you okay, Katara?" she asked gently.

Katara sighed. "I guess...I guess I still don't know whether it was right to agree to this or not. I would normally try to listen to what my heart is trying to tell me—but I feel like it's pulling me in two different directions. I feel like Zuko is right, and yet I also feel like this is all wrong."

Suki smiled wanly. "I know how you feel. When Zuko first told me what he wanted to do, my first thought was that he'd gone crazy. I thought about trying to reason with him, and then I thought about writing to Sokka and Aang to see if _they_ could reason with him. But as he started talking, and I started thinking about the war and everything we had gone through, and what Azula was able to do in Ba Sing Se—I wavered, and I thought, maybe he's right."

Suki looked away, sighing. "But, the more I think about it, the more I don't feel right about this either. The idea of the Fire Lord deliberately trying to assassinate a member of his own family... If it just happened in a battle, while he was trying to defend himself or someone else, that would be one thing, but this—it's just so cold. If he really goes through with this, what will stop him from feeling like he has to do something like this again? What kind of Fire Lord will he become?"

Suki's eyes returned to Katara. "Maybe...maybe you and I should try to talk some sense into him."

Katara gazed at Suki for a long minute. For once, Suki wasn't wearing the Kyoshi warrior face paint, instead her hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, and a long dark gray shirt over her clothes. Her eyes were wide with concern and uncertainty.

Katara looked away, as her thoughts spun in a confused jumble. The images from the dream came back to her—Azula, kneeling on the floor before her, yet looking strangely triumphant. And her mother—she had lost track of the number of times she had had that dream.

Katara had conquered the man who had so wronged her family all that time ago. Not by killing him—she had conquered him by having him in her power, and then turning and walking away. But what if he hadn't been a retired, pathetic old man? She didn't really know at the time what type of man the current leader of the Southern Raiders was, but she knew first-hand what the man who had slain her mother was capable of. What if he had still been the leader of the Southern Raiders, likely to carry out more attacks on innocent people? Would it have been the right thing to walk away then?

Katara raised her eyes to gaze back at Suki evenly. "Azula...is dangerous," she said in a low voice, so low she could barely hear it herself. "Whatever mistakes Zuko has made in the past, he's right about that." Katara took a quick breath. "Azula needs to be stopped, before she can hurt anyone again. So...I don't think we should say anything."

Suki was quiet a moment, studying Katara with an expression Katara wasn't sure how to interpret.

At last, Suki's eyes wandered back around to the crates of dried foods and metal parts, and she murmured, almost to herself, "Maybe. Maybe we shouldn't try to interfere. Maybe this is a decision Zuko has to make himself." She shook her head slowly. "He could still change his mind. He may realize, in the end, he can't do it after all..."

Katara didn't answer. She could see Azula's face in her mind, wild and gleeful in its cruelty, and flickers of all her friends, suffering. Suki, chained in a Fire Nation prison cell. Zuko, laying motionless in a courtyard, chest marred with the black mark of a lightning strike. And of course, Aang in the crystal catacombs, falling slowly toward the hard stone below. If Azula was not stopped, how many others would have to suffer? How long before Azula did something they couldn't undo?

Katara closed her eyes. Suki was right—when the moment came, Zuko might not be able to do it. Zuko talked tough, but often he was softer than he realized, especially when it came to his family. However, she made a quiet vow—if the time came, and Zuko didn't do it, _she_ would.

Katara stood up. She passed by Suki, without meeting her eyes. "I'm going back up. I think I've had enough rest to keep me going for a few more hours."

"All right," Suki said hesitantly. "I'll be up in a few minutes, too. I should probably check to see how Ty Lee is doing, she doesn't know that much about ships."

Katara climbed up the metal rungs that led up to the deck, and though she refused to let herself turn around, she thought she imagined Suki's troubled eyes following her as she went.

* * *

A/N: Kind of a dark moment for Katara here—and finally her rationale why she's deciding to do this when she had already made up her mind not to kill Yon Rha before. (A few people were already asking this question, and it was a question I was asking myself when I first started mapping out the story—In the end, I decided that killing to protect is actually a very different dilemma from killing for revenge. And while it is something that Aang had already faced with Ozai, I didn't think it was a choice Katara had really faced directly before. And it was always my impression that Katara can be fiercely protective of those she cares about.)

I think it was in season three when Katara really became one of the most interesting characters of the series for me, particularly seeing her initial reaction to Zuko joining the group, and later her actions in _The Southern Raiders_. By those points, we've come to know Katara as the compassionate, caring one of the group, and while I don't think every character needs some horrible dark side to be complex, given the horrors Katara experienced in the war, it completely makes sense there would be circumstances that would bring out an angrier, colder side to her. In fact, it might even be because of her compassion for the suffering and oppressed that it seems like she views the people responsible for it more harshly.

Anyway, that's it for now. Thanks again for reading, and all your comments so far! There may be a bit more of a delay on the next chapter, as I realized belatedly there are still some revisions I want to do, but I'll be working on it. If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and hope to see you next time! C:

Posted 7/31/18, Revision posted 9/22/18 (The arrangement of the first scene was making the last half or so feel anticlimactic, so I switched some things around for flow.)


	5. Regrets

A/N: Still in the logistics chapters. (A longer delay than I intended from the last chapter, but in the course of editing, I saw some opportunities for revisions that would address some issues that had been bothering me, and that led to some other ideas for more revisions.)

Anyway, thanks for sticking with me so far! Hope you enjoy this next chapter (for better or for worse, it's a longer one), and I'll see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 5: Regrets

* * *

"Zuko."

Zuko blinked and tore his eyes away from the foremost point of the ship, his gaze coming instead to rest on Mai, her knuckles white from where she gripped the metal side.

"Not that I'm not having the time of my life," Mai said through her teeth, "but you could at least _try_ to rein her in. Before, you know, we throw up so much we die of dehydration."

Zuko turned his eyes apprehensively back toward the front of the ship.

Katara had been at it ever since they had left the south. If possible, she seemed in an even nastier mood than when she had first arrived—every day, for hours at a time, she stood at the prow of the ship, bringing her arms forward and back almost violently, as though angry with the water below their feet. The boat continuously lurched forward in starts and stops, forcing the rest of them to cling to the sides for dear life and fight to hold down the remains of the various dried meats they had consumed along the way. They had finally made it to warmer waters, for which Zuko was grateful, but Mai had a point.

Zuko was not eager to talk to Katara when she was like this, but he was about as tired of this violent passage as the rest of them, and he knew it wouldn't do their mission any good to arrive at the first Fire Nation town half dead.

Forcing himself to his feet, Zuko half-staggered as the boat bucked again, then hesitantly approached.

"Katara?" he said tentatively, keeping a hand firmly gripped to the side for balance.

Katara's arms briefly stopped moving. In spite of the chilly air, sweat was pouring down her face, and her breathing was ragged. Though being in Fire Nation waters again the air was almost balmy compared to the arctic south, it could still get cold this time of year.

"What?" she muttered in between breaths, her irritability dulled with exhaustion.

"You've already put us far ahead of where we expected to be," Zuko said. "We'll reach the major port city of Nanjing in just a few days, and that will put us about a day ahead of the imperial cruiser. This ship can travel faster than the cruiser, so that will give us enough time to check out the city and, if we don't find anything, move down to the next major city the cruiser will be docking at."

He added hesitantly, "So...I don't think it would hurt anything if you just took it easy for awhile. You could use a break."

Katara was still breathing a little fast. However, she didn't answer, and instead, lifted her eyes to gaze up at the sky, where the silver moon hung, half obscured by a passing cloud. The moon was nearly full.

Different emotions played across her face. Her mouth twisted down, eyebrows tense with anger—then suddenly she slumped, her hands coming down to grasp the metal side for support. Her head bowed and, for the first time, she looked almost defeated.

"I thought...I thought we could make it," she said between breaths. "But...there's no way now."

Zuko, too, raised his eyes to gaze at the nearly full moon. He felt a flicker of disappointment—when he had come to get Katara, he realized he had been counting on that unbelievably powerful technique he had glimpsed aboard the Southern Raiders' ship to make this less dangerous for everyone. However—at the time he hadn't realized how limited it was in terms of when it could be used.

Zuko turned back and, forcing himself to straighten, reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It's all right," he said in a low voice, too low for the others to hear on the far side of the deck. "We beat her last time without it, and we'll do it again. This time, we'll work together. Even if we made it to the port city to search, the chance we'd find Azula that soon would be pretty slim anyway. Part of this relies on her wanting to find me, so when it comes down to it, she'll be in control of the timing, not us."

Katara gripped the side, and glared out at the dark water. There were dark circles beneath her eyes, and she seemed too tired even to lift a hand to bend the sweat from her face.

"Azula is always in control," she said bitterly. "That's the problem."

She sighed deeply, and her eyes closed. "You're right. It was probably ridiculous to think we could have timed it so exactly, and I still don't want to use it if I don't have to. I just thought, if we were at least in range during that time, then maybe...maybe it would be easier for me to keep any of us from getting hurt."

Katara sighed and shook her head. "But there's nothing we can do about that now. I guess we'll just have to hope for the best. We don't want to drag this out for another entire month—you have a throne to get back to, and I need to get home so I can be doing my part with the rebuilding."

Zuko nodded absently in agreement. However, he eyed Katara for a long moment. He couldn't tell exactly what, but it felt like something had changed. Though Katara had agreed to come, she had seemed somewhat reluctant, especially when it came to the thought of using that technique. However—for whatever reason, now she seemed all in.

Katara slowly let herself fall to her knees, and turned so she was leaning back against the metal side, breathing heavily. "I just need a few minutes," she muttered. "Wake me up if I fall asleep."

"Rest," Zuko urged again. "Please. You should take a few hours, at least."

Katara didn't reply, and Zuko didn't know if that was because she was already asleep or, more likely, she hadn't the slightest intention of listening to his advice.

Sighing to himself, Zuko turned and made his way back across the deck to rejoin the others. As he approached, Suki, seeing Katara no longer in control of their direction and speed, quietly got up and passed by him to the pilothouse to take the helm.

He found Mai and Ty Lee still sitting on the hard metal floor of the deck, pressed up against the side—Zuko had offered to bring up some crates from below for them to sit on more comfortably, but Mai had rightly pointed out that with Katara's way of traveling, she and Ty Lee would probably just wind up thrown overboard. And neither had seemed very keen spending the journey below deck, at least while Katara was at the prow—maybe because down below there really wasn't a very good place to be sick.

Mai watched him as he bent to check on the satchel of maps and other materials he had been using to review their plans. He made sure it was still secured to the deck before he took up the spot Suki had just vacated.

Mai's usual bland features were set in an expression he couldn't quite decipher.

"Talking about something important?" she asked. Though her tone was, as usual, bored, uninterested, Zuko thought he detected an undercurrent of something else. Something almost like sarcasm.

"I was just telling her to take a break," he answered. "I thought that's what you wanted me to do."

Mai didn't reply, instead staring out across the deck with that same frustratingly unreadable expression. However, the corners of her mouth seemed to tighten briefly, as though with irritation. After a moment, she half-shrugged one shoulder, then, turning her back to him, laid back, stretching herself out lazily on one side.

Zuko sighed. His hope they might make up and get back together seemed hopelessly naïve now. He wasn't sure why, but lately he couldn't seem to do anything right, at least as far as Mai was concerned.

Several minutes of silence passed, before Mai suddenly muttered into the quiet, "Is this really going to work? Are we really going to find Azula this way?"

Zuko usually considered Mai's negativity part of her charm, but between the still-chilly air, Katara's bad moods, and Mai's odd coldness, he didn't really feel like having this conversation right now.

"If you have a better idea," he muttered back, "I'd like to hear it."

Mai didn't reply, though she let out a short breath of annoyance and didn't look at him.

Another minute of quiet passed, but for the waves splashing against the hull below. However, just as Zuko was considering getting up to take a walk around the deck—just to give some channel for his restless energy while Katara was not in the process of doing her best imitation of a raging storm—a small voice spoke up unexpectedly.

"You know, it might be better if we don't find Azula."

Ty Lee, who had been sitting against the side, had sat forward slightly. She had been uncharacteristically silent almost the entire journey, but now, though her voice was hesitant, her eyes were determined.

Mai turned reluctant eyes on her friend, mouth pursed in a thin line. "Better for who?" she asked, almost aggressively.

Ty Lee fidgeted, but otherwise didn't back down. "For all of us."

Ty Lee's eyes closed, and a sigh escaped her. "Look," she began. "I know Azula has done bad things— _really_ bad things—and she's probably not going to stop. I know it's not fair to other people if we don't—do anything about it. And she still scares me, too—" She hesitated. "No, it still scares me to even _say_ I'm scared of her. But..."

Her eyes opened, and this time, they were fixed on Zuko. "Is it really going to be worth it? Are you really going to feel better when this is over, Zuko, or...will you just feel worse?"

Zuko didn't know how to answer. He opened his mouth—but nothing came out. He knew all the logical arguments, of course. He hadn't made this decision because he wanted to make himself feel better, he was doing it to protect the future from Azula's madness. And yet—as he allowed himself to think of that moment, how he would feel when it was all over and done, a paralyzing horror seemed to seize hold of his mind. No, he would not feel better. He already knew that.

Ty Lee's gaze shifted, seeming to stare at the dark horizon far in the distance. "Do you remember that night on Ember Island?" she said softly. "When we all just sat around the campfire, talking. We were all getting so frustrated—but then we all made up, and just laughed together. We might be enemies now, but back then, we were friends. Azula, too."

She hesitated again, then added in a low voice, "Zuko, do you really want the three of us to do something like this? Is this going to make the world a better place—killing people who were once our friends?"

Zuko opened his mouth to respond, even though he wasn't at all sure what he would say. However, before he could say even one word, he was cut off by a sharp, humorless laugh.

Mai had turned back, and her usually unconcerned, relaxed features were tense. Her yellow-gold eyes, now hard, glared first at Ty Lee, then Zuko.

"Friends," she spat. "We were never friends. When we were kids, we were her toys. When we were older, we were her weapons. She owned us. Now, far as I'm concerned, we don't owe her anything."

Ty Lee didn't answer, and Mai shifted subtly, half sitting up, though still leaning on one arm. Her eyes briefly scanned the deck, and Zuko noticed her other hand slip into her sleeve, as though on guard for an attack. However, after a moment her sharp eyes returned to Zuko.

"Let me tell you something, Zuko," she said in a low, deadly voice. "This is real life. It's not about some abstract idea of right or wrong, or those hocus-pocus auras Ty Lee's always going on about—it's about us or her. We can spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders, wondering when Azula will strike next, or we can get out there, and try to do something about it."

Zuko stared back into her face. Mai rarely spoke with such passion, such vehemence—though in meeting Azula in the capital Mai had seemed to keep relatively calm, forced on the defensive by the loss of Tom-Tom and the murky involvement of her father, now that she was the one in pursuit, the hunter rather than the hunted, it seemed to have freed her in some indescribable way.

Perhaps seeing some of the disquiet in his expression, the harshness in Mai's features faded a little, and she glanced away. She muttered in a lower, easier tone, "Listen, Zuko, I know she's your sister, and I know how you are about family. No one expects you to find this easy—if I got the chance, I'd do it for you. But you're the Fire Lord now, and if you try to play nice with the wrong people, they'll make you pay for it. You know as well as I do—Azula _always_ makes people pay."

Zuko didn't reply immediately. He knew she was right. However, he found his gaze wandering back to Ty Lee—wondering what she was thinking as she listened to this. How she might respond.

However, Ty Lee wasn't looking at Mai. Instead, her gaze was far away, fixed on the night sky above.

"Ty Lee?" he said quietly at last, hesitant.

Ty Lee sighed, and finally her eyes dropped back down, falling on him. Her normally bright, carefree was expression unusually solemn.

"I guess you kinda know what I think. If you did this, there'd be no going back. I do want to do my part to help you stop Azula before she hurts anybody, Zuko, that's why I came with you. But—" Ty Lee took a quick, decisive breath. "I didn't come to help you kill her."

She looked to Mai briefly, then back at Zuko. A rueful smile suddenly tugged at the corner of her lips. "I could have snuck off to tell Aang. I almost did—but I decided not to." Ty Lee wrapped her arms around her knees. "I don't know if that was the right thing, but I do know if you don't have the chance to decide now, Zuko, you'd probably just end up trying to do it sometime when I'm not around. So...I decided I'm just going to trust you'll know what the right thing to do is when the time comes, so that you won't have any regrets."

A derisive breath escaped Mai, not quite a laugh. "Regrets," she repeated in a low rasp.

However, Mai said nothing more, and at last she laid back down, rolling so her back was to them. The conversation seemed over, at least for the present.

The deck was silent then. Zuko looked between the two of them—Mai, laying on her side facing away from them, and Ty Lee, hugging her knees to her chest, and staring off down the deck. He knew he agreed fundamentally with Mai—he wouldn't be here if he didn't. Yet, if he was being honest with himself, he knew he would so much rather side with Ty Lee.

Ty Lee suddenly blinked, and her gaze shifted back toward where he sat. He thought perhaps she had thought of something more she wanted to add, until he saw that her gaze was not focused on him so much as beyond him.

Zuko twisted his head around to find Katara standing there, still in the same dark shirt, her long hair slightly frayed with her exertions. Her eyes lingered on Ty Lee for a moment, making Zuko wonder how much of the conversation she had overheard.

Mai had also half turned back, and was eying Katara without expression. "What?" she asked. She had also seemingly noticed the direction of Katara's gaze, because she added, "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet, too."

A flicker of annoyance passed over Katara's impassive face. "No." She turned and gestured with one hand. "Only Suki and I thought you might want to know—there's something coming toward us. Over that way."

Zuko sat up straighter. He followed where she was indicating, toward the north, and he noticed a glimmer of red against the dark sky in the distance. Zuko squinted, then blinked.

"It's a messenger hawk. But how—?"

Mai, too, was immediately alert. She shifted into a crouch as she demanded abruptly, "Who knows we're here?"

In a moment, Zuko was on his feet. She was right to be concerned—the fact he was out here, on a mission of his own, was a secret, known only to a select few, all of whom had been instructed to refrain from sending him anything unless it was important. If it wasn't from one of them, then that could mean...

Zuko moved to the very prow of the ship. As the hawk neared, he extended his forearm, and with a final flap of its long wings, the creature landed there neatly. Zuko carefully removed the scroll from its back, and immediately noticed a small note had been attached to the outside. As he pulled it off and took a quick look at it, he allowed himself a small sigh of relief, though he still didn't fully relax.

"What?" Mai asked tersely.

Zuko held up the small bit of parchment. "This scroll, whoever it's from, was sent to the imperial cruiser first. The captain just forwarded it along to me. He must have thought it couldn't wait—he's requesting instructions."

Zuko hesitated only a second before he unfurled the scroll. As he scanned the contents, his eyes narrowed.

Mai was watching his expression carefully. "Well?" she asked at last.

"Is it good news?" Ty Lee asked tentatively. "Or bad?"

Zuko stared at it a second longer, then quickly rolled the message back up. "Both," he said, "depending on how you look at it."

He turned toward the pilothouse, and saw that Suki had come out. She stood by the doors, watching. He beckoned her, then returned his attention to the others.

"This message came from the governor of a small town along the coast," he announced. "Yunfu. It's right along the path of the imperial cruiser, though it wasn't a scheduled stop."

By then, Suki had made it up to where they all stood. She stretched out an arm for the hawk, and it hopped happily onto it, especially when the creature saw she had a bit of some kind of jerky in one hand.

Zuko held up the scroll in a clenched fist. "Just one night ago, the governor was visited by three apparitions—they came in a fog of smoke, all in long black cloaks and white masks."

Mai hissed. "We know who _that_ is."

Zuko nodded once. "These so-called spirits told the governor that the Fire Lord is a weakling that must be dethroned, and that the governor must pledge to assist in my downfall, or suffer the consequences. Or, more accurately, his _son_ would suffer the consequences."

Zuko looked around from one face to the next. "However, instead of giving in to their demands, it seems he decided to send word to implore me for my assistance."

Mai's normally laid-back features were rigid. "Back to her old tricks," she muttered under her breath. "Well, that's her mistake, because we know exactly where she is now."

Katara, who had been looking on without reaction, frowned slightly. "Wait," she said. "Haven't people heard about what happened in the capital by now? Don't they have to know who this is?"

Suki shook her head as Zuko stowed the scroll in his waistband. "Zuko didn't think it would be a good idea to circulate Azula's involvement. None of the children ever saw Azula's face, so it was easy to keep that part of it from becoming public knowledge—most people just think it was all a hoax run by Ukano, or at most, that Ukano had found some real spirits to work with him, at least until the Avatar got involved."

"It would have caused a panic," Mai explained sourly. "Spirits, the New Ozai Society—people can deal with that. Azula—there's just nothing you can do to prepare or defend yourself when you know she's coming for you."

Mai paused then, considering. "In fact," she said slowly, "the governor might not have sent this letter on his own. The 'Kemurikage' could have told him to send it—maybe even dictated it—in order to lure you there."

"In other words," Suki said quietly, "there's a good chance this might be a trap."

Zuko nodded. He knew they were right. However—

Zuko reached for his satchel, rummaging inside it a minute before drawing out a long, slightly worn scroll case. Undoing the clasp at the top, he drew out the scroll and laid it out over the deck, revealing it to be a detailed map of the entire Fire Nation.

Zuko's eyes went to the southern coast, and he scanned it carefully until he found what he was looking for.

"There," he said, pointing. "That's Yunfu. The imperial ship probably won't make it there for two more days at least, but it's close to where we are now. This ship is fast, and even without Katara's waterbending, we could probably make it in less than a day."

"Before Azula expects us?" Mai said evenly.

As Zuko turned, he found her unexpectedly close—he realized she had knelt down beside him.

It took Zuko a second to get his bearings, then he nodded once.

"We could stake out the governor's mansion," Suki suggested. "Azula might plan to make a move before you arrive, and we already know her first target will be the governor's son."

Katara was gazing down at the map, at the spot Zuko had pointed with a slightly odd expression, and said nothing.

Zuko considered. Mai and Suki were probably right, it had to be a trap. It was just too convenient. However, Azula probably wouldn't be expecting them for another couple days at least, so they would just have to bank on that. There was no telling when they would get such an opportunity again, and besides—they couldn't leave the town of Yunfu at Azula's mercy.

"Okay," Zuko said, nodding. "Okay. Then...here's what we're going to do." He took a short breath. "We'll stake out the mansion, just like Suki said. I don't think there's any point weakening ourselves spreading out to search the city—we'd never find her that way. We'll just have to hope she has one last bit of business there before the imperial ship arrives. If she doesn't show herself—well, we can bet she will once she knows I'm there, even if it means we have to walk right into a trap."

He looked at each of them in turn—Mai, Suki, Ty Lee, and, of course, Katara.

"We'll split up to cover all the likely ways into the mansion. Suki, I want you to watch the main entrance."

Suki nodded once. "Leave it to me, Zuko."

"Mai and Ty Lee—you'll stake out the roof. The 'Kemurikage' seem to like to be up high." He hesitated, then turned reluctantly to Ty Lee. "I know you don't think this is right, and you're hoping I'll change my mind. I'd understand if you would rather stay behind. But—if you're going to come with us—I need to know that you won't try to interfere. If we go up against Azula fighting amongst ourselves, that would put us all in danger."

Ty Lee regarded him with a conflicted expression, hands clasped tightly together. However, she glanced once at Mai, and when her gaze returned to Zuko, her eyes were resolute. "I'll be there, Zuko." She hesitated, then added reluctantly, "And, whatever you decide...I won't try to stop you."

Zuko nodded once in respect, then looked last at Katara. "Like Suki said, we know Azula will be after the governor's son. So you and I will stake out his room—ready to take down Azula if she strikes."

Katara gazed back at him evenly. Her eyes flickered meaningfully up to the moon above, then back to him. She nodded once.

"Wait."

Zuko blinked, and he realized that Mai had climbed back to her feet beside him, and was glaring at Katara over his head.

"Wait," she said again. "So you got a promise out of Ty Lee—with the way you've set it up, she probably won't even be there—but what about _her_? What if you go after Azula, and she goes all peaceful Avatar-friend, everyone-deserves-a-second-chance on us? We might only get this opportunity once. Can we really trust she'll be willing to help you do what needs to be done?"

Zuko slowly rose to his feet. "Mai—" he began. He wanted to stop this before it could turn into a fight. However, as he spread his hands in what he hoped was a calming gesture, no one even glanced in his direction.

Katara met Mai's accusing glare, and her tired eyes were suddenly chilly as a winter frost.

"We went through a hundred years of war," she said quietly. "You think Aang and I don't know what death is? Aang's people were wiped out. My mother—I saw what was left of her when raiders attacked our village."

Katara closed her eyes. "Aang," she said softly. "It's true that Aang...has been able to live out his people's beliefs. Letting go of bitterness, showing mercy even to his enemies. Even after everything he's lost, that's how he is. I won't let anyonetalk badly about him for that."

Her eyes opened again, and when they did, they were hard as ice. "But I'm not Aang, and I can't be so forgiving."

She turned around, turning her back on them. "Believe me, I know what's at stake. And maybe I am afraid of killing another person—maybe I hate the very thought of it—but one thing I'm not afraid of is stopping the horrors committed by people like Sozin and Ozai from happening ever again. I won't let our people go through another hundred years of war. I won't let what happened to my mother happen to Aang or to anyone else."

She turned her head back partway toward them, and the silver light of the nearly full moon cast her face in shadow. "There's a lot of things you don't know about me, Mai," she said in a low, cold voice. "And tomorrow night, if Azula decides to strike—trust me, it will be the last thing she ever does."

The deck was quiet for a long moment. Suki was gazing at Katara with a slightly uncomfortable, uneasy expression, while Ty Lee's face seemed blank with surprise. Mai regarded Katara with a face that was, as usual, unreadable. However, she didn't try to argue further.

"Zuko," Katara said shortly.

"Um, yes?" Zuko answered, a beat late. The intensity of Katara's speech had left him a little off-balance.

Katara was facing straight ahead, and didn't look at him. "Could you come here for a second? I want to talk to you."

Confused, Zuko glanced back at the others. Then, gathering up the map and returning it to the bag, he reluctantly made his way after her, back toward the prow of the ship. He could feel Mai's eyes following him as he went.

When they were out of earshot of the others, Katara abruptly turned on him. "It's going to be a full moon tomorrow," she said, keeping her voice low.

Zuko nodded uncertainly. "Yes...it is."

"I told you before, I'm only going to use that technique as a last resort."

Zuko kept nodding.

Katara turned her eyes to gaze out at the shifting dark waters ahead. "That's still true now. Not many people know this technique even exists—I want to keep it that way. So...if I do end up using it..."

She turned her eyes back to Zuko, and once again they were hard and full of resolve. "Azula has to go down. Right then. I don't want her to get away, knowing that technique exists. I don't know what she could do with it, but—knowing Azula, I'm sure she would find something."

Zuko paused, then gave a final nod.

Seeing that they were in agreement, Katara sagged slightly, the exhaustion in her face suddenly visible again. She turned away. "Anyway," she said dully, "do you think I would have some time to go below deck and get some rest? I want...to be ready for tomorrow night."

Zuko tried to think. "Yeah—Yeah, that should be okay. Like I said, we're probably close enough we would reach the port before nightfall, even without your bending."

Katara nodded once without turning, then headed off across the deck, in a moment disappearing down the metal rungs.

Zuko stood there a minute, uncertain, then finally turned and went back to the others.

Mai had already laid back down, head resting on a crooked arm. Suki had once again returned to the pilothouse, and Ty Lee was sitting next to Mai, staring at the place Katara had gone, her eyebrows slightly creased. After a moment, Ty Lee climbed to her feet, mumbling something about helping Suki, and headed away back down the deck.

Zuko slowly sank back down to the cold metal next to Mai, though keeping a few feet between them. Her eyes were closed, and he wondered if she was asleep.

Zuko slumped back against the hard side. He knew he ought to be feeling relieved, hopeful—after all, they knew where Azula was now, and if Azula did strike tomorrow night, Katara would have the unequivocal advantage, just as he had originally hoped. However, as he watched Ty Lee's retreating back, he felt only cold and anxious. Some of the conversation with Ty Lee drifted back to him.

He, too, thought back to Ember Island. That night they had sat around a campfire, just talking in a way they'd never talked to each other before.

Mai and Ty Lee had always seemed like no more than they appeared—Mai, indolent and cold, hardly caring about anything, Ty Lee, a pretty face who flitted from one fun time to the next without a thought in her head. But as they'd aired their frustrations, their fears and insecurities, he'd really understood for the first time that there were parts of them and their inner thoughts that he, even being their friend since they were kids, never knew about. They had things that plagued them, had driven them to be who they were, just like he did.

Azula, by contrast, had simply sat back and clapped, as though each of their deepest, most personal torments was all just a show put on for her entertainment. " _I don't have sob stories like all of you,"_ she had said. " _I could sit here and complain about how our mom liked Zuko more than me, but I don't really care."_

And yet—against his will, the memory played out, to its conclusion. Her usual careless, condescending expression shifting slightly—his unbeatable sister with her endless pool of talent, born under a star of good fortune, suddenly gazing deep into the dying embers. " _My own mother thought I was a monster."_

Azula, too, like Mai and Ty Lee, was not everything she seemed, not all the time. There were things that bothered her, things that even she was afraid of. Ty Lee was right—when he started thinking about that, about how they had once been a group of friends, having fun, admitting to one another those things they had resisted admitting to anyone else—the thought of what he was doing was almost intolerable.

"Regrets...huh?"

Zuko blinked, startled. He turned his head.

Mai was laying on her back, hands folded behind her head as she gazed up at the dark sky. Voice low, in a tone made almost kind by its lack of the usual antagonism as of late, she continued, "If you think you can find a way to live without any regrets, you're fooling yourself. No matter how this turns out, Zuko, you're going to regret something. Whether it's killing Azula and feeling bad about it, or it's _not_ killing her and someone dies that didn't have to."

Her expression didn't change as she went on quietly, "Thinking you can live without regrets is like thinking you can live without fear—in the end, no matter how hard you try, you can't. You're afraid of killing someone, you're afraid of what Azula will do to your mother and everyone else, you're afraid of doing something like your father, you're afraid of not protecting the Fire Nation—you can't escape it, Zuko. No matter what you do, some of your fears are probably going to be realized. How do you decide what fear is worse to live with than another? Whatever Ty Lee and I might tell you about what we think is right or wrong—only you can decide in the end. What fear come to life you'd rather live with."

Zuko gazed at Mai for a long moment. She didn't look at him, eyes never moving from the dark sky.

There was something in Mai's words—something that vaguely reminded him of advice someone else had once given him. Something from Uncle? He couldn't seem to quite grab a hold of it.

At last, to distract himself, Zuko reached for a roll of plain parchment from the satchel—he needed to write a reply back to the captain, instructing him to make a stop at Yunfu. After all, according to the plan, Azula should be expecting his ship to change course to go there, and he wouldn't be surprised if she had some way of keeping tabs on his ship's movements. However, as he drew open the satchel mouth, his hand brushed against another scroll—the Fire Nation map he had hastily returned there earlier.

He hesitated. Then, absently, he pulled it back out, unfurling it once again on the deck. For a long minute, he stared at the tiny dot along the coast where Azula now lay in wait, planning her next move.

All the people living there were now in danger. Whatever innermost thoughts Azula might have, insecurities that he himself might relate to, it didn't change the fact that Azula would annihilate anything or anyone that stood in her way. He didn't want to do this, but given what Azula was capable of, given what she had already done and promised to do in future, what choice had she given him? If Azula did someday hurt his mother or someone else—was he more willing to live with that than doing what it took now to stop her?

Zuko continued to stare down at the map, imagining the people there, and drawing his resolve from thoughts of the families—mothers, children, fathers—all trying to go about living in this new world of peace. As he did, his gaze drifted—and suddenly the name of one of the nearby villages jumped out at him. It looked familiar.

Zuko's eyes narrowed slightly, then suddenly he remembered. That was the village they had visited that day—the village near where Yon Rha lived. The man who had murdered Katara's mother.

It wasn't quite close enough there would be any danger they would run into him by accident, but he was sure Katara had noticed. She had probably thought of the irony.

Katara had let the man who killed her mother go, let go of the need for revenge. But this was different. Azula was still a danger, a threat, on the level of Sozin or his father. She could do unspeakable things, not just to the people he cared about, but to the entire Fire Nation, the entire world.

Katara's words drifted back to him. _"But one thing I'm not afraid of is stopping the horrors committed by people like Sozin and Ozai from happening ever again."_

Listening to Mai and Ty Lee's arguments, Zuko didn't know what to think. Much as he still cared about Mai, as more than a friend, and trusted her, she could be cold sometimes—she had spent so much of her life trying not to care about things, just surviving, and after everything Azula had put her through, it didn't surprise him she would lean toward the colder, more permanent course.

Ty Lee, on the other hand, was the opposite—she seemed to find good things about everyone she came into contact with. But while Zuko admired her ability to find the positive whatever the situation, he knew there were some fights that had to be fought without holding back, where one had to be a soldier rather than a hero—only that was completely outside Ty Lee's way of seeing the world.

However, Katara was different. She cared about people deeply, as much as anyone Zuko had ever met. She was kind, and understanding. Yet she had suffered enough that she wasn't naïve about what it would mean to fail to stop someone who was more than willing to inflict on others the worst of pains.

Now, Katara was committed to seeing this through. And if Katara was convinced they were doing the right thing—knew what fear she could live with most easily—how could he think anything different?

Zuko closed his eyes again, and breathed deeply.

* * *

A/N: In the first draft, what's now chapters 4, 5, and 6 were originally one chapter. I was working on getting myself to write more concisely, but it seemed like there were a lot of key aspects of this section of the story that weren't being fleshed out properly, and I didn't want a chapter that felt overly long. (Though even with the splits, this chapter may unfortunately still fall into that category.)

I think at least one or two people were wondering how Ty Lee would ever agree to something like this. In the early drafts of this story, her thoughts weren't really properly addressed, and then for a while she was coming off as somewhat undecided, not really liking it, but kind of going along with Mai. (Possibly because she's often stereotyped as 'the follower,' the same way Katara can get stereotyped as the compassionate one.) But considering that in Smoke and Shadow Ty Lee seems more than willing to call Mai out on her more underhanded tactics for protecting Zuko, and her value for human life in general, I knew that wasn't all that believable. Hopefully the rewrites improved things, though I know that in choosing this particular plot, and bringing Ty Lee along, I may have been writing myself into a corner.

Thanks so much for reading, and your comments last chapter! (There may be another delay getting out the next chapter, as it still needs some work, but after that I'm hoping to get chapters out closer to the originally planned schedule.) If you have a moment, let me know what you thought this time around, and hope to see you next time! C:

Posted 8/27/18


	6. Ahead of Schedule

.

* * *

Chapter 6: Ahead of Schedule

* * *

"Maybe she isn't going to come after all."

Ty Lee's whisper was obviously hopeful, where she and Mai both lay in wait in the shadow of an enormous cherry-oak tree. It was the closest place to the wide, open roof of the governor's mansion that afforded some cover—fortunately in the Fire Nation, even in the dead of winter the climate was always warm enough that most trees stayed leafed out all year round. Although, with the bright full moon above casting a silver glow over everything, Mai still felt painfully exposed.

"The sooner she makes her appearance, the sooner we'll be rid of her for good," Mai answered in a low mutter. "Whatever you do, just don't get in our way." She added tersely, "Now, if you don't mind— _pay attention_."

They had made landfall in the late afternoon. To avoid detection, they had dropped anchor in an alcove out of sight, then waited until the fading light of dusk to make their way to the town.

The town of Yunfu was a dusty little place not the most well maintained. The industrial sector appeared half abandoned, and even the small garrison to the west roughly resembled a shack, with a patchwork of boards hastily hammered on every side. They had no problem locating the governor's mansion—although the entire building probably would have fit inside the throne room of the Fire Nation palace, it was bigger than almost any other structure, and the reds and golds of its facade were slightly less dingy. The ornamental trees all around it had clearly been left there in a hopeless effort to make the place look slightly more attractive, in spite of the obvious security risk.

After some quick reconnaissance from Ty Lee, who found the governor's son's room with ease and reported there to be two guards stationed outside the door on the inside, they had all taken up their positions. Suki, behind a pillar near the entryway, Zuko and Katara in the branches of a tree that gave a clear view of the window of the son's room, and Mai and Ty Lee on the edge of the roof.

By now, Mai was beginning to think Ty Lee was likely to be right. Mai had believed Azula would come back to the mansion the night before Zuko was supposed to arrive, if just to threaten the governor again, or maybe even kidnap the son so she'd have bait for her trap. But it was already hours past midnight, and still there was no sign of her.

Ty Lee whispered into the quiet, "Maybe Azula knew we'd be here. Maybe that's why she's not coming."

Mai fought a sigh. She should have known Ty Lee's attention span and stakeout wouldn't mix.

"Don't let your guard down," Mai muttered back, eyes still fixed on the open roof. "We don't know that, and they could be here any minute."

"Sorry," Ty Lee whispered back.

Ty Lee lasted another five minutes before she broke the silence again. "Hey, Mai?"

Mai didn't turn, but could see out of the corner of her eye that Ty Lee's gaze had wandered away from the roof, and toward the tree slightly to the south, where Katara and Zuko hid a floor below.

"Why..." she began slowly. "Why do you think Zuko wanted Katara for this? Is she that strong against Azula?"

Mai sighed, and grumbled to herself. However, considering how much time had already elapsed, it seemed increasingly unlikely that they would be seeing Azula tonight.

Mai let her concentration wander enough to reply testily, "How should I know? In case you haven't noticed, I never know what Zuko is thinking. Apparently, she helped beat Azula before. Probably by a fluke."

Ty Lee blinked, and she swung her head around to fix Mai with a bewildered stare. After a moment, her lips suddenly twitched.

"Um, Mai?" she said in a tone that was somehow simultaneously hesitant and delighted. "I've been wondering for a while, and I thought I must be wrong, but are you...can you really be..."

"What?" Mai said shortly, eyes still focused on the roof.

"You know," Ty Lee said, girlishly twirling a lock of hair over one finger. " _Jealous?_ "

Mai stiffened, and for the first time, she tore her eyes from the roof to gape at Ty Lee. " _What?_ " she hissed, a little too loudly. She forced her voice back down to a rasping whisper as she said, "Don't be ridiculous."

Ty Lee leaned closer, obviously far more interested in this topic than in stakeout. "Don't worry, Mai, you know she already has a boyfriend. You should see them sometime, they're so cute—"

"Ugh," Mai muttered under her breath.

"Anyway," Ty Lee said, giggling. "You know, Mai, I figured when you split up with Kei Lo, you and Zuko would get back together. I think the only thing stopping you is...you."

Mai didn't immediately respond. She could feel Ty Lee's eyes on her, carefully studying her expression. At last, Mai half turned away. "Zuko can do whatever he wants," she muttered. "I don't care."

Some of the amusement in Ty Lee's face faded, and she sighed. "Mai, I know you don't believe in auras and stuff, but if you'd just trust me, I could tell you that there's really honestly nothing to be—"

"I'm not!" Mai snapped, cutting her off.

Ty Lee blinked, and once again, Mai glanced away.

"Jealous," Mai muttered. Her eyes returned to the roof. "We need to focus on Azula. I can't afford any distractions, and neither can Zuko."

A minute passed. Then, slowly, reluctantly, Mai added, "He's always like this. It's just like back at the capital, when he started sneaking off to go see his father—he just tries to handle everything himself, and shuts me out. Like he doesn't need to tell me, like he doesn't trust me. Or like I'm just an afterthought."

Mai gripped her throwing knife. "There's something he's not telling us. Something the do-gooding water tribe girl is in on. I just don't know what."

Ty Lee didn't argue. Instead, her eyes wandered back to the thick leaves of a nearby branch, and she sighed deeply. "Yeah, I've been kinda getting that sense, too." Her face was troubled as she glanced back toward the tree to the south. "I just hope that..."

She blinked, then shook her head and turned back. "But seriously, Mai," she said. "What are you going to do? About you and Zuko, I mean."

Mai scowled at the roof. "We're not having this conversation right now."

Ty Lee ignored her and plowed on, "You know Zuko doesn't mean to hurt you, Mai. He's just...like that. Maybe back at the capital, he just wanted to protect you. And now—maybe he has a good reason for not telling us everything."

Mai let out a short irritated breath and looked away.

Mai felt Ty Lee's eyes linger on her for a long moment, before at last Ty Lee lifted her gaze to the broad sky above. Ty Lee murmured, almost to herself, "I guess if something is meant to be, it will find a way of working itself out."

Ty Lee's expression was thoughtful as she gazed up at the dark clouds, and the scattered stars just glimmering through. "Funny, isn't it?" she mused. "How, even if someone you care about does something you don't like, something that hurts, it doesn't change how you feel about them. I guess that's what it means to really care about someone."

Mai glared at the roof, but inwardly she paused. It sounded like the usual trite wisdom that she had come to expect from Ty Lee, and she usually took it with a grain of salt, but there was a truth there she couldn't entirely deny. In spite of how angry Zuko might have made her, deep down, she had never stopped caring, and she had done whatever she could to keep him safe from a distance, even as she decided—or thought she decided—that things would never go back to what they had been. And she knew, if she was being honest with herself, that she had hurt Zuko, too. Yet he still seemed to care about her, even now.

Such a contrast Zuko made to Azula. Azula would instantly discard anyone who defied her will—that was always something Mai had understood and accepted. Because even if they had spent time together, fought together, Azula didn't care about anyone.

Mai realized that Ty Lee was watching her again. The teasing twinkle in her eyes as she talked about Zuko had faded, and once again her cheerful features were oddly solemn. "Mai," she whispered into the quiet. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You've been asking me questions all night," Mai grumbled. "Even though I told you not to."

Ty Lee rocked back slightly where she was sitting, eyes rising back up to the starry sky above, and the bright full moon. "Is seeing Zuko kill Azula really going to make you happy, Mai?"

Mai blinked, and she felt the fingers clutched around her knife twitch a fraction with surprise at the question, phrased that way. She didn't know what to say.

"You've tried to protect Zuko from everything else," Ty Lee went on. "What makes this any different? Don't you know how he'll feel, if he really does this?"

Mai hesitated. She was silent, as she gazed out at the slanting empty rooftop. "I'm more concerned with protecting Zuko's life than his feelings," she said at last. "Zuko's going to feel whatever he feels." She paused, then added coldly, "I don't care who does it, so long as it gets done. If I didn't think Azula knows all my moves better than I do, I'd be down there now, ready to do it myself."

The roof was quiet for a moment, but for the sound of a lightly curling breeze through the limbs. At last, Ty Lee whispered quietly, "Do you really hate Azula that much, Mai?"

Mai stared out at the roof. She noticed a tiny squirrel-mouse scurry along the roof's outer edge. It paused to sniff the air, nose twitching, before it vanished over the side.

Mai didn't immediately answer the question. Instead, she let a short breath escape her and her eyes slid closed for just a moment. Then, in a rasping voice so quiet she could barely hear it herself, she said, "I always...just accepted things. I just accepted that we would always have to do whatever Azula said. Defying the royal family meant imprisonment or execution, maybe for your entire family, so I always assumed that doing what Azula wanted—whether that meant stealing mochi meant for my grandmother, chasing Zuko to bring him back to the Fire Nation in disgrace, or letting her sacrifice my own brother—would always be better than the alternative."

Mai's eyes opened and dropped to the gleaming knife in her hand. "Back on Ember Island," she said in a low, dry rasp. "When we were talking—Azula said I was afraid to care about anything because I'd had a controlling mother. She was right about that. But it was her, too—I didn't want to care about something I knew someday she might destroy."

Mai's hand tightened around the hilt of her knife, until her knuckles shone bone-white through the skin. "I don't know if I hate Azula," she said. "All I know is that I hate who I was back then—I hate who _she_ made me."

Mai could feel Ty Lee's gaze on her, but whether it was a look of sympathy or uncertainty or anything else, she didn't turn to see.

"No good is going to come of Azula remaining in this world," she said in a low, dead voice. "She brings out the worst in everyone she meets, and that will never stop. Not until she's gone."

Ty Lee was silent. Eventually, her eyes wandered out to stare at the roof too, but Mai didn't turn to see her expression. Perhaps her eyes were saddened at this harsh conclusion, or full of silent horror. Or even tinged with pity—after all, Azula had never made _her_ do anything truly horrible. Azula had always known to leave those tasks to Mai.

Mai's entire body was rigid where she crouched, as an unexpected flare of annoyance rose inside her. It was easy for Ty Lee to talk about auras and _doing the right thing_. When someone chose to look at the world through a pink filter, where good people never had to kill and bad guys would get what was coming to them without any sacrifice or effort, of course it was easy to sit back and pass judgment on other people who made hard decisions. It was easy, when it wasn't your responsibility to decide what to do to keep people safe.

"You know something," Mai said, her quiet voice a deadly cold. "I don't think your real feelings are as nice as you'd like us to believe. I think it just makes you feel better, lecturing us about how what we're doing is wrong—when actually, deep down, you want Zuko to succeed as much as I do."

Ty Lee's eyes widened slightly, stunned. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Before she could let herself feel guilty, Mai pressed on, "You knew I would do everything I could to help Zuko get this done, but _you're_ the one who brought me into this, not Zuko. If not for you, Zuko would have left me out. I think, even if you don't want to admit it, you know this is the only way. The only way we'll ever really be free of her."

A strange look flickered over Ty Lee's face, like a ripple on a pond. She looked sick, aghast—but there was something else in her eyes, too. A hint of guilt.

Ty Lee's gaze dropped quickly from Mai's, and she half turned away. However, before Mai could think of something else to say, she said quietly, "You're wrong."

Ty Lee half turned back, and though her eyes were sad, Mai saw no anger or fear. "I didn't tell you because I wanted you to help Zuko do this. I think you'll both regret it if you do. But..." She hesitated, then added in a voice barely above a whisper, "I did know that if I told you, there was a bigger chance Zuko would succeed."

A rueful smile crossed her lips, as her eyes rose to meet Mai's. "I just—didn't think it would be fair. For Zuko to go off, and you not be close enough to have the chance to protect him."

Mai blinked—and for just a moment, all her attention was gone from the roof. She turned to stare at Ty Lee, crouched beside her among the thick leaves.

Mai had been irritated with Ty Lee ever since they had left the capital—perhaps almost as irritated as she had been with Zuko. That night Ty Lee had told her Zuko's plans, they had argued, and with all Ty Lee's talk of _regrets_ and not becoming like the enemy, Mai had been frustrated by the hypocrisy—someone claiming to care so much about others' wellbeing while obviously unwilling to do what was necessary to safeguard it.

However, Ty Lee had deliberately chosen to tell Mai, even knowing that Mai would side with Zuko's decision. Ty Lee had put Mai's feelings ahead of the outcome she felt would be the right one.

Mai felt an unexpected rush of emotion that she did her best to suppress. She couldn't think of anything to say, so she turned her eyes back to the roof.

"Mai," Ty Lee whispered. "Whatever happens tonight, let's promise to always be—"

The smile on her face froze. Her eyes widened, and suddenly all her attention was on the roof.

It took Mai a moment longer than normal to change gears, but in a second she was instantly alert. She raised her throwing knife slightly, slipping her other hand into her sleeve for other concealed weapons as she ducked her head to give herself maximum cover. She had heard the same thing as Ty Lee—the faint rustle of a cloak.

A moment later, she watched, disbelieving, as a cloaked figure appeared over the ridge of the roof.

Mai tensed where she was, raising a three-pronged throwing dagger as her mind raced through her options. Only one. Should she attack now, take the one out before they knew she was there, or should she wait to see if there were others close? If there were others, an early attack would give away their position.

Mai signaled to Ty Lee and Ty Lee nodded once. Without a word, Ty Lee began making her way stealthily along the branch closest to the perimeter of the roof, keeping to the shadows and giving them two vantage points.

Mai readied herself to attack. She could take out this girl now, and then if there were others, Ty Lee could take them by surprise.

The hooded head suddenly turned, and abruptly the blank masked face seemed to look directly where Mai was hiding. Mai's eyes widened slightly in shock—and then she heard something behind her.

Two cloaked figures in masks erupted from the branches, and Mai spun instantly, cursing herself for letting Ty Lee make her so careless.

A burst of flames blazed around her, and she had to raise her arms to protect her face as she sprang away. However, she kept one eye exposed for visibility, and some of the flames licked her cheek. She saw as the two tore after her, the tattered ends of their black and purple cloaks fluttering out behind them, their masks concealing any emotion.

Mai let fly her knives. One cut through the flames and caught the sleeve of one of the Kemurikage, knocking her back and off-balance. The other figure dodged around the strike, and in an instant was right in front of Mai, hands coming forward to let loose another blast of flames.

Mai had always been better with weapons than in direct hand-to-hand, but now she brought her arm up swiftly to knock the girl's attack off-course, and she kneed the girl in the stomach. The girl staggered back briefly, but almost immediately recovered. Neither of these two were Azula, Mai was sure of that—but they were far from throwaway minions. They each moved with deadly skill and precision, obviously handpicked by Azula for a reason, and Mai's eyes widened as she realized she had forgotten about the one they had first seen on the roof.

Mai hit the trigger on her wrist and nearly half a dozen darts instantly sprung to her hand, but the girl was already behind her. Before Mai could finish turning, she felt a hard blow to her neck, and the darts clattered to the roof. Hands gripped her arms, yanking them back, and abruptly she was in a choke-hold.

Mai's eyes automatically flashed to the place Ty Lee had been—Ty Lee had torn from cover to help, and had seemingly taken out the one that Mai had caught with a knife, as the girl lay limply on the roof. However, Mai saw that a fourth cloaked figure had joined the fight, and Ty Lee was pinned to the roof, arms behind her back. The girl had a sleeve over Ty Lee's mouth, preventing her from making any sound, and Mai felt something shoved in her own.

Mai gritted her teeth over the material, but she rolled her eyes slightly at Ty Lee. She gave Ty Lee a look that she hoped her aura-vision would be able to interpret.

 _If we get out of this, I am never doing stakeout with you again._

* * *

Zuko sat where he was, quietly crouched in the tree branch just outside the boy's room of the governor's mansion.

Katara knelt beside him, her gaze riveted to the window. Neither of them had said a word in hours, and Katara had only grown more tense during that time. It was now well past midnight, and as the time began to creep toward morning, Katara's eyes flickered to the sky more frequently. Zuko didn't have to ask to know what she was thinking—any longer, and the full moon, along with the great power it bestowed on waterbenders, would be gone.

Zuko started as Katara jerked slightly, and her eyes suddenly flickered upward—only this time her gaze wasn't focused on the moon, but the roof.

She turned back to Zuko, and when she spoke, her voice was so quiet through the black material she had pulled up over her mouth that he could barely make out the words.

"I thought I heard something up there. I'll go make sure Mai and Ty Lee are okay, and I'll be back in a second."

Zuko wanted to argue—he would have wanted to go for himself to see that Mai and Ty Lee were all right. However, even if it seemed more and more unlikely Azula would be making a showing tonight, they both knew they couldn't leave the window unguarded even for a moment, and he didn't want to risk waking anyone or attracting attention by having a protracted debate about it. He nodded once.

Katara opened the water flask at her back, and drew out a long coil of water, which glimmered silver in the moonlight. With a flick of her fingers, she directed it upward, and it immediately wrapped itself around one of the decorative hooks that stood out from the edge of the roof. She tugged the water slightly, as though testing to make sure it was secure, before she jumped lightly from the branch, and quickly scaled up the wall like a cat-spider, using the water-rope to pull herself up. Zuko watched until she was out of sight.

Zuko stared down at the peaceful bedroom. From where he was sitting, he could see the boy, sleeping quietly in his bed, his mess of dark hair poking out from between the blankets. Across the floor were scattered a variety of Fire Nation toys, including red-and-black building blocks and what appeared to be a stuffed dragon. Zuko smiled slightly. The boy couldn't be much older than five or six—he reminded Zuko just a little of Kiyi, or even himself at that age. He wondered what kind of boy the governor's son was. What were his dreams?

Zuko determined he wasn't going to let anything happen to him. Even though none of the children back at the capital had been hurt, he knew how frightened some of them had been—while they had been missing, he had been almost as afraid for how they would be when they came back from such a trauma as he had been for their physical wellbeing. It was only Mai's father's involvement—a man most of the children knew and trusted—that had kept them from being really afraid. He would not let this boy go through any terror of that kind.

Zuko was so lost in his thoughts, and it happened so quickly that it took him a moment to register it. One second, he was gazing at the young boy's peacefully slumbering face, the next he saw something dark block the window—like an enormous black shadow. By the time he realized what it was, the shadow was already inside the room, looming over the boy's bed.

Zuko opened his mouth to shout a warning—a threat, if the figure inside so much as laid a finger on him. However, he closed it again. Instead, he extended his fist in front of him.

Clearly, the figure in the room had not seen him. That was why he and Katara had decided to hide here—the leaves were so thick they were completely obscured from view. Right now, the window was wide open, and the figure's back was to him. He might just be able to send a burst of fire, and strike the enemy down before they even knew what hit them. Zuko was sure he could do it without injuring the boy—he had so much more control over his flames than he once had.

However, Zuko hesitated. He knew that long dark cloak and white mask of the Kemurikage. However, he couldn't be entirely sure that it was Azula behind that mask. It could be one of her followers, and if it was, he didn't want to kill the girl unnecessarily. Azula was their target—no one else.

Zuko prepared to send a warning blast, before the enemy could even lay a hand on the boy. However, for just a moment, he found himself simply watching. He expected the false Kemurikage to try to snatch the boy and carry him off, just as the Kemurikage had done in the capital. But the one in the room did not move, and simply stood beside the bed, gazing down at the sleeping boy, almost thoughtfully.

The figure raised an arm, two fingers hovering, just above the boy's small head. A spark of lightning flickered at the tip of a pointed nail.

Zuko felt something icy plunge into his stomach, as he realized two things at once.

One, the person in that room really was Azula. Two, Azula was not intending to kidnap the boy.

She was going to kill him.

Zuko let out a shout of horror and rage, and a burst of bright orange flames exploded from his fist.

Azula spun and ducked out of the way, but the attack barely missed by inches, and the force of the blast blew off the mask and her dark hood. The door on the opposite side of the room burst into flames.

The boy startled awake, and he stared with wide eyes at the dark figure in his room. For a second, he seemed too stunned to react.

Azula was staring at Zuko, and he watched as her entire face, first slack with surprise, lit up, like a sea of lanterns at a festival. Her full lips curved into a wide smile.

"Ah, Zuzu," she sighed. "My dear big brother. You're ahead of schedule."

* * *

A/N: And, Azula finally makes her appearance.

There's always been something I find fascinating about building a character through the perspective of others while holding back from actually showing them (I would guess there's a tvtrope for that), but I figured it was about time Azula start wreaking havoc for real.

Next chapter has always been my favorite of this story, though I expect it may also be the most controversial.

Thanks so much for reading! If you have a moment, let me know if you have any thoughts/questions/critiques, and hope to see you next time!

Posted 9/4/18


	7. Destiny

A/N: Probably my favorite chapter of this story, for various reasons. Though I won't be too surprised if reactions are somewhat mixed.

I hope you'll be able to enjoy it a little anyway—see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 7: Destiny

* * *

 **Forgetful Valley, Three Months Earlier**

" _Same as always, Zuzu. Even when you're strong, you're weak."_

Azula clawed blindly through the deep, overgrown forest, tearing low branches and thick vines from her path. Her breathing came in uneven, hitching gasps.

At last the toe of her shoe caught a raised tree root and she staggered, then collapsed, scraping her palms against the dirt. There she lay, unmoving, and she did not get up.

" _You did the right thing,"_ a voice whispered in the back of her mind.

Azula felt her hands close into fists, pressing them to the sides of her head. "Shut up," she breathed.

" _The throne was never your destiny. You did the right thing, to leave the letter behind. I'm proud of you."_

"Shut," Azula spat through her teeth, " _UP!_ " She spun abruptly onto her back, and for just an instant, she saw a kind face gazing down at her. Azula pointed two fingers straight up, and a bolt of crackling energy exploded from the tips, shooting directly through the woman's face and up into the night sky.

The woman of the vision, unaffected, regarded her with gentle, sad eyes. _"I love you, Azula,"_ she said softly.

Azula lay in the dirt, panting. Again she gripped her hands to either side of her head, digging her fingernails into her scalp as she tried to shut out the voice.

She had been so close. So close to escaping the voice, the madness. But she had failed. Her brother was a fool—now neither one of them would be free.

Rage and fear and pain all swirled together inside her, a storm of emotion, uncontrollable.

" _Azula,"_ whispered the voice.

" _Leave me alone!_ " Azula's voice rose in pitch, high, in rage and desperation. She turned wild eyes to the sky as she said suddenly, "Isn't it enough? You have what you want. Zuko has the throne. He beat me! I lost! Just like you wanted all along—just as you planned from the beginning. Can't you simply leave me in peace?"

" _The throne was never your destiny,"_ the voice of her mother whispered gently. _"Yours lies elsewhere. Let me help you."_

Azula managed to choke out a laugh, and she scoffed. "Help me? I don't think I could survive any more _help_ from you, Mother. Don't pretend to act like you're on my side. You never loved me. You always thought I was a monster—You were always weak, and I had power like you could only dream. You envied me, feared me—but you never loved me."

Azula lay where she was, waiting for the vision to contradict her once again. However, there was no reply.

Azula slowly sat up. She looked around, but she saw no sign of the vision, only dark forest, branches and brambles that curled like claws. Strange creatures skittered along the bark, and cawing birds flapped their wings. In the bark and on the creatures' backs she saw odd patterns—like faces.

For a moment, Azula felt a childish flicker of fear in her stomach, and her wide eyes dropped to the ground, but then she paused.

 _Faces?_

Azula raised her eyes again.

The faces ought to be gone. After all, the Mother of Faces, the spirit that wandered this valley and appeared only once a season to grant a human a request, had already granted one, and should have moved on.

Azula turned, just in time to see an enormous pillar of brilliant light through the branches above. Something must have caused the spirit to linger. Perhaps the Avatar.

Azula stared for a moment, transfixed, then let her head drop. To think, her mother had been concealing herself here in this forest all along. She had taken on a new face, granted to her by the Mother of Faces, and taken a new identity. It was so impossible to believe. She, Azula, along with the Avatar and his friends, had been right in the old, rickety cottage without the slightest suspicion of who the plain peasant woman—who, along with her peasant husband and daughter, seemed so disgustingly happy Azula had been sure it must be fake—really was.

But maybe the snow peasant had been right—maybe the woman really had been that happy. Free of her old disturbing memories, with the husband she had wanted, rather than the one that had been forced upon her. A new daughter like the one she would have wanted, rather than the monster.

" _If what you say is true...if I really am your mother...then I'm sorry I didn't love you enough."_

Azula bent her head. She was still panting slightly, but now her breathing slowed, leaving behind a deep exhaustion that sank all the way down to her bones.

Slowly, Azula let herself fall back to the hard forest floor. She lay there, slick beads of sweat sliding down her face. The sweat felt cold against her skin. She stared up at the dark sky.

A realization came to her then. She was going to die—here, in this forest, Forgetful Valley. Her mother had won. Her mind was slipping away from her, and what was more, she had no more purpose. After all, if she was not to be the Fire Lord, what was left to her? She would die in this forest, cold and alone, of starvation or thirst. Or perhaps the faces she still saw in the trees would come for her. The little animals would feed on her corpse, and it would be as though she never existed. They must see that she was weak—easy prey.

She heard chittering and snarls among the trees, and the sounds of scuffling feet. As she turned her head, she thought she imagined dozens of little hungry eyes, glowing red as they watched her in the darkness, teeth bared.

Azula didn't move from where she lay, not sure what was real and what was only in her mind. Better that it should end, she thought. If she could not defeat her mother's plotting and escape the visions, then better that they should end another way...

That familiar figure she knew so well suddenly appeared beside her once again, leaning over her.

" _I love you, Azula,"_ she whispered. _"I have always loved you."_

Azula turned her head, to see her mother's deceptively kind features. She watched as the woman knelt, and gently touched her face, just as the plain peasant woman had done in the cottage—amidst the burning remnants of the happy life she had led, free from memories of monsters. Azula let out a hollow laugh.

"No, you don't, Mother." She stared up at the face, and for once she was too tired to sneer, or cast a bolt of lightning to banish the vision. "Leave me alone. I'm sick of your lies."

Her mother regarded her silently for a long moment. Everything had fallen oddly silent—there was no sound of wind through the trees, no scuffling feet of animals as they approached her on all sides. Everything was dark, but for the woman's pale face.

"Tell me," Azula whispered hoarsely. "Tell me how to get rid of you. If my destiny isn't to be the Fire Lord, then what is it?"

The woman gazed down at her, with an expression Azula couldn't quite interpret. Gentle, kind—yet also just a little sad.

" _If you are finally ready to hear it, my daughter... If you are ready to finally end the conflict in your heart... Then let me tell you."_

* * *

 **Present**

"My dear big brother," Azula said brightly. "You're ahead of schedule."

Her smile was wide, her face radiant as though with an unexpected and pleasant surprise. "How have you been? I do hope you've been taking care of your health while I've been away—you were always coming down with some sickness or other when we were children, it certainly wouldn't do for the Fire Lord to succumb to some common ailment."

" _Azula!_ " Zuko spat, and he lunged through the window, at the same time blasting another ball of flame directly at Azula's head.

He wasn't here to exchange pleasantries. He was here for one purpose, and one purpose only—and that was to end the person in front of him. He realized that, until this moment, he hadn't been sure if he would actually be able to do it. But seeing what she had been about to do to an innocent kid made up his mind. She had to be stopped—no matter what.

Azula dodged the fireball easily, with an almost lazy tilt of the head, and she stepped sideways to avoid the swing of his fist, before spinning lithely backwards, ducking through the burning remains of the door.

Zuko charged after her. On the other side of the door, he found the two guards—both unconscious, with charred holes in their clothes, like lightning burns. He didn't stop to check if they were alive—if they weren't, there was nothing he could do for them now. Instead, he tore down the hall. He sent another blast of fire after Azula's retreating, laughing form, but she again moved her head out of the way just in time, without even bothering to turn around.

Zuko knew he was causing untold property damage, and probably waking up everyone in the house, but he didn't care. He could always pay for any damages later, and the people would all be awake soon enough anyway—the boy had snapped out of his trance, and Zuko heard his wails trailing behind them.

Azula wasn't running seriously. As she took a corner down another hallway, in the act of turning, for just an instant she spun to face him. He saw her lips curled in a laugh, her eyes gleaming—then she completed the turn and was gone.

If Azula had wanted to lose him, she could. Twice more, she disappeared around a corner. But as he reached the corner and rounded it, he always found her standing at the opposite end, waiting for him, her smile wide and taunting.

Zuko turned down the next hall of the mansion, and this time when he saw Azula standing at the opposite end, she disappeared down a flight of stairs. He heard a shout of anger and fear from below. There was a flash of blue light in the darkness, followed by a groan, and Zuko gritted his teeth, pushing himself for everything he was worth.

At the top of one last flight of stairs, he saw they led down into a large, open room—the entrance hall. His eyes fell on a man lying on the hard floor, next to the crimson carpet of the entryway. There was a nasty burn on his forearm, but otherwise he didn't appear to be in any danger. As the man rolled over with a groan of pain, Zuko realized by his fine gold-hemmed robe that he must be the governor.

The man's eyes opened and he saw Zuko on the stairway.

"Please," he moaned. "Please—don't take my son. I'll give you anything. Food. Gold. The Fire Lord is coming in a few days, just as you asked. Please..."

Zuko didn't reply. Instead, he reached the bottom of the stairs in two bounds, then raced directly for the doors. Hurling them aside, he found himself out in the dark courtyard, lit only by torchlight. His eyes scanned the wide area, until he caught sight of Azula running, her dark cloak rippling out behind her. She glanced over her shoulder at him, and her mouth was spread in a wide smile.

"Follow me, Zuzu," she called with a wild laugh. "Follow me to your destiny!"

Zuko stared after her for only a fraction of a second—and then he followed.

* * *

Azula lay on the forest floor, the sounds of before, strange animals scurrying in the shadows, oddly absent.

She stared up at the woman who had so long tormented her every waking moment, who had been determined to destroy her, even before she had been aware of it. Azula knew nothing the woman could say would change anything—yet maybe this time, she would listen. Azula would at least hear what cruel and vicious fate the vindictive woman meant to inflict on her. Here, at the end, having been robbed of all she had ever wanted, what more did she have to lose?

" _Your destiny,"_ the woman whispered, _"my dear Azula..."_

She gazed down at Azula with gentle eyes full of kindness. She reached forward, and seemed to smooth back the hair that had fallen into Azula's face. _"You have so much talent, my dearest daughter,"_ she said softly. _"So much strength. But your entire life, you've hidden behind a mask of fear and intimidation. You don't need it any longer—cast it aside, so that you may finally see the world and yourself with unclouded eyes."_

Azula slowly sat up, and turned her eyes to gaze unblinkingly at the woman, her ever warm, earnest face. Azula didn't try to strike, didn't try to blast the vision from her thoughts.

"And?" Azula asked without expression. "What do you say, Mother? What do you say my destiny is?"

The woman's expression didn't change. Still kind, still earnest.

" _Zuko was born to be the Fire Lord,"_ she said softly. _"He was meant to bring new order to our troubled land, to usher in a new era of peace. His kindness will be a blessing to many."_ She closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them again, they were, for once, hard—determined.

" _But...kindness alone will not make him into the Fire Lord he needs to be. There will be times when Zuko must take up arms, when he must fight to protect his people. A Fire Lord must be strong as well as kind. You, Azula—you could help him learn that strength. Your advice, your aid, could mean the difference between whether his reign will survive, or fall."_

Her mother's earnest gaze didn't waiver. _"Your destiny, Azula, is to aid Zuko along his long and arduous path to be the Fire Lord he was always meant to be. For too long, you have been imprisoned by the notion that it is your destiny to suffer the incredible weight of being the Fire Lord—but that isn't your burden to bear, my daughter. Instead, you must help Zuko learn to bear it—in a way that neither I nor your Uncle Iroh ever could."_

Azula gazed out into the dark forest. The strange little animals had not returned, and all was quiet.

"And," Azula said slowly. "If I were to accept this new destiny—you would leave me alone?"

The vision regarded her for a moment. _"The title of Fire Lord was the last thing Ozai ever gave you. A curse disguised as a gift—you have been holding onto it, even as you have come to realize that the throne is for Zuko, not for you. No—even as you realize, deep down, you don't even really want it. And so, your heart and mind have been out of balance."_

The vision stood up straight. _"Accept that the throne belongs to Zuko, that the throne is not your destiny, nor do you even want it to be—and you will no longer be in conflict with yourself. You will find the peace you are looking for. Or at least—some of it."_

Azula's eyes hadn't moved from the forest. She gazed out at it, her expression unchanging. Through the trees, she realized she could just make out light on the horizon—the sunrise.

She turned her gaze back to the vision.

* * *

Katara used a thin stream of water to pull herself up to the roof. She'd heard a noise up there—probably just the wind, or maybe Ty Lee getting restless, but Katara was eager for a chance to stretch her legs. The moon was still up, but dawn would be approaching before long. It seemed Azula wouldn't be showing after all.

Katara glared up at the moon in frustration, though an undeniable part of her was just a bit relieved. Not tonight—it wouldn't have to be tonight after all.

However, as Katara crested the edge of the roof, expecting to find Mai and Ty Lee still sitting there, bored, her eyes widened in shock.

Dark-cloaked figures stood in a small congregation like black hawk-crows, each with masks concealing their faces. One had Mai caught in a choke-hold, sleeve pressed against her mouth to prevent her making any sound. Another was holding Ty Lee to the roof, again keeping a sleeve to her mouth. Two more stood nearby, one looking slightly the worse for wear, bent slightly, and the other standing before the rest, perfectly straight, clearly the leader. Azula?

"Kill them," commanded the figure. "We're taking no prisoners tonight. Those are our orders."

Katara didn't recognize the voice. It wasn't Azula.

"But, Zirin..." began one hesitantly.

"Do it!" she snapped.

In response, the two raised their hands obediently, sparks of flame igniting at their fingertips.

Katara didn't have time to think.

With a hiss through her teeth, Katara leaped up onto the edge of the roof, and four heads whipped around in her direction, shock momentarily freezing them into inaction. Sweeping her arm forward, Katara split the water from her flask into two globes, and sent them hurtling at the cloaks holding Mai and Ty Lee. The streams of water, silver in the moonlight, hit them right in the face, and as Katara gave a twist of her fingers, the water sunk into the unprotected eye hole of each of their masks.

As one, the two cried out in shock and pain, and let go of their captives to clutch their faces. Mai spun around instantly and struck her captor in the stomach, while Ty Lee felled hers with several lightning-fast strikes to pressure points.

"Go help Zuko!" Mai snapped, taking up a fighting stance and drawing two double-bladed kunai. "If they're here, Azula's probably going after the boy. We'll take care of this."

There was no time to argue, especially since the girl's—Zirin, Katara thought—words were echoing in her head. _We're taking no prisoners tonight._

Katara spun and stared down at the tree branch she had come from—the leaves were disturbed, and Zuko was gone.

With the help of the water from her flask, Katara propelled herself from the edge, and landed back on the branch. The wood shook beneath her weight, rattling the leaves, but she didn't care. The time for stealth was over.

Katara stared into the room. The boy was sitting bolt upright in bed, crying at the top of his lungs, and the door behind him was ablaze.

Katara felt her heartbeat accelerate, but she breathed the slightest sigh of relief. The boy was all right, and still in his own house, which meant Zuko must have been able to run Azula off, at least for the present. Katara could still catch them if she hurried.

Katara leaped from the tree branch, launching herself through the window and rolling to a crouch on the floor.

As the boy caught sight of her, for a second he was quiet. Then he began wailing at a new pitch—she knew in her black clothes with a cloth over her mouth, she must not be all that comforting a presence.

"Sorry!" she whispered. "Sorry!"

The smoke from the burning door was beginning to fill the room, and Katara drew the water from her flask, dousing the flames. She knew the smoke wouldn't be good for his lungs—however, taking him out of the building might just make him an easier target for the Kemurikage fighting on the roof, not to mention scare him worse than he already was.

Katara stood where she was a moment, irresolute. She couldn't leave Zuko to handle Azula all by himself, but she also couldn't afford to just leave the boy here unprotected—Mai and Ty Lee might be handling some of the enemy, but there were likely to be more.

There suddenly came a shout in the hallway, and what remained of the charred door fell inward under the weight of several charging forms. Katara lifted her eyes to see a woman in a silken dressing gown, a long, wickedly curved kitchen knife in each hand, looking positively ferocious. Several guards emerged into the room on her heels, spears raised.

"Get away from my son!" the woman snarled, advancing like a charging komodo-rhino.

Well, that solves that problem, Katara thought as she automatically backed toward the window. Unfortunately, now the woman was blocking her way to following Zuko and Azula.

Before Katara had fully decided a course of action, a lilting, musical voice rose from the courtyard behind her. Hands nervously raised in front of her, Katara allowed herself one quick glance back over her shoulder.

A figure was flitting with easy grace across the cobblestones, dressed in a long cloak, hair drawn up in a perfect topknot—Azula. Another figure in black was in hot pursuit. That could only be Zuko.

Katara didn't hesitate. Without trying to offer the woman or her guards any word of explanation, Katara spun where she stood and, putting her foot up on the windowsill, instantly disappeared over the side.

In a normal jump from this height, Katara likely would have broken both her legs. However, she drew out a string of water from her flask, shooting it out beneath her, and in an instant it became a slide of ice. The moment her feet hit stone, she took off running.

She heard a sound to her left, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Suki appear around a pillar, her metal fans flashing as she staved off two more cloaked figures in masks.

Katara's fists clenched convulsively. There were so many—and judging from the experienced way they moved, these Kemurikage imitators weren't just random thugs Azula had picked up off the street. These were experienced fighters, perhaps each with their own deadly skills. But then, Katara didn't know why she would have expected anything less of the girl who had conquered Ba Sing Se and almost killed the Avatar.

Katara didn't have time to help—the important thing now was getting to Azula. Getting to her, and ending her.

* * *

Azula slowly climbed to her feet.

"I will never be Fire Lord," she repeated slowly, testing out the words. "The throne belongs to Zuko. My destiny—is to make Zuko into the Fire Lord he was always meant to be."

" _Yes,"_ the vision said softly.

Azula turned to face her. And suddenly, her dull, expressionless features lit up in a wide smile, her golden eyes glinting with an almost crazed light.

"Very well then," she said. "I'll make a deal with you, Mother. I'll help your favorite Zuko reach his full potential. I'll make him strong enough to keep from breaking under the pressures of being Fire Lord—but in return, you have to promise not to ever show your face to me again."

The vision did not reply, and Azula turned, pacing the ragged edge of the small clearing. A new excitement was welling up inside her, rising in her chest until she could hardly contain it.

"You know," she continued, "you're right, Mother. You're absolutely right. Being Fire Lord—that's not me. Better to leave all the drudgery of state affairs to the likes of Zuzu."

She stopped walking, and she turned to look back at the horizon, at the light of the dawn shining through the trees. The large trunks cast long shadows along the ground, and one fell over Azula's face.

"But," she said softly, "you're also oh-so _wrong_."

Azula turned her back to the eastern horizon, and instead looked to the sky to the west, still dark with night.

"I want you to take a good look at this face, Mother," she murmured. "Because it's not a mask, and it never was. Oh, I'll help Zuko—but I'll help him my own way. Zuko may not have the blood of a Fire Lord, but deep down, he's not as kind and gentle as others think. He has the potential to be the greatest Fire Lord the Fire Nation has ever seen—more powerful, more terrifying. If only someone would show him the way."

Azula gazed up at the sky a moment longer, her features still dark in the shadow of the trees.

"Well," she said at last, letting her gaze fall, and turning back around. "What do you think of that, Mother?"

However, as her eyes fell on the place the woman had stood, the spot was empty. The vision was gone.

Azula's lips curled into a wide, cold smile, and she raised her eyes back up to the dark sky.

* * *

 **Present**

Azula ran easily through the city streets. She kept her pace just slow enough that Zuko couldn't possibly fall behind—she didn't want to lose her dear brother, after all. Losing him was not part of the plan.

At last, her eyes set upon the spot she was looking for, and she cut into a back alley. She halted beside a side door, resting a hand lightly on the frame.

Zuko appeared around the mouth of the alley, and as he did so, he hissed her name like an oath, and sent a blast of flames directly at her head. However, before it could reach her, she had already ducked inside.

Azula smiled. She had not been expecting to see her brother tonight, but it was certainly not an unwelcome surprise. And there was something different in his face from the last time she had seen him. He was angry, and the reluctance to fight seemed to be gone—everything was perfect. Tonight was surely the night. The night when Zuko finally embraced his true destiny, and she fulfilled hers.

The old warehouse was dingy, everything covered in a fine layer of dust. Stacks of crates towered above in a virtual maze, casting long, dark shadows from the silver light of the moon outside in crisscrossing patterns.

Azula ducked behind a tower of crates, and was instantly invisible in the shadow. Zuko charged in the door a moment later, but stopped abruptly, finding the maze obstructing his way. He stood where he was for a long moment, eyes scanning over everything, before he slowly, carefully edged further into the room, turning as he walked as his gaze went from one stack of supplies to the next. As he turned his back to her, Azula slipped around behind another stack of crates.

Azula laughed softly, and she heard Zuko's feet freeze, then turn. Staying in the shadows, she moved on to another stack, then another, still laughing, drawing him after her. At last, Zuko stumbled forward, into a wide, open space, where all the warehouse merchandise had been shoved back to create an uneven circle.

Zuko's fist lit up in a blaze of flame, and he held it aloft like a torch as he spun again, eyes scanning the gloom. "I know you're there somewhere. Show yourself, Azula!"

Azula strolled casually out from between the towers of dusty boxes and crates, and came to a languid stop standing opposite him. "I'm right here," she said, rolling her eyes. "No need to shout."

She tilted her head back toward the wide open space and the high ceiling covered in a network of steel beams. "It's no grand arena like we have back at the palace, but I think it will do well enough. Don't you think?"

Zuko's eyes were riveted to her face, and he had already taken up a firebending stance. However, he blinked. "Are you...challenging me to an Agni Kai?" he said slowly, cautiously.

Azula's eyes glittered in the silver light of the moon. "Maybe. What do you say? The way I recall, you technically lost our last one. Now's your chance to reclaim your honor."

Zuko's eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth to reply.

"Don't listen to her, Zuko."

Another figure stepped out from between the crates. Azula immediately recognized the little snow peasant, the waterbender who always hung around the Avatar. However, instead of her usual light blue Water Tribe robes, she wore a long black shirt tied off at the waist. Her normally wild hair had been tied back, and her mouth was covered in a black material. As she stepped forward, she reached up to draw it down from her mouth.

She walked carefully to Zuko's side, her eyes never moving from Azula as she went.

"Don't listen to her," the girl repeated. "You don't have to prove anything to her, Zuko." She came to a stop at Zuko's side, and she raised her arms, ready to strike at any moment. "We'll take her together this time. You were right—I think she is back to full strength."

Azula made a show of sighing deeply. "I _so_ hate when _commoners_ try to interfere in royal matters that don't concern them. Can't you see my brother and I are trying to have a conversation, peasant?"

The girl didn't answer, only regarded Azula with cold eyes.

Azula's eyelids sank as though with sudden boredom. "Why are you here anyway, girl? Shouldn't you be back chiseling igloos in that backward little village of yours? But here you are, with my brother, and without the Avatar."

Her smile widened as her eyes rolled lazily to Zuko. "So, I'm guessing you couldn't get Mai to take you back after all. Seems instead you've _really_ decided to settle. But, sneaking around with the Avatar's girlfriend—that can't be very good for world harmony."

Zuko sputtered something incoherent, but the ice peasant's eyes never wavered.

"We're here for you, Azula," she said. "We're here to do what we should have done during Sozin's comet. You're not going to hurt anyone ever again."

"You went too far in the capital," Zuko said, recovering himself. "Bringing children into it. And just now, in the governor's mansion—you were going to kill that boy."

The peasant girl's eyes widened slightly, and then her glare intensified, eyes hard.

Azula blinked in surprise, before her smile spread wide across her face. "I see. You're here to get rid of me, big brother. And you've even brought a little helper along to do it."

Zuko's eyes were determined, but Azula saw a bead of sweat slide down his temple.

 _Not yet,_ she thought. He was talking a good game, but he wasn't there yet—not where she wanted him to be.

"You're right, of course," Azula went on casually. "I was going to get rid of the little brat. Simply kidnapping him was a little too generous, I thought it was about time to up the ante. Not to mention my followers might have revolted if they had to sit through one more night of babysitting."

Zuko gritted his teeth, and his eyes blazed. The peasant girl's eyes were furious and cold as ice.

"You're a monster," the girl whispered.

Azula smiled with delight, and dipped her head as though accepting a compliment. "Why, thank you," she said. "My mother always thought so, too."

And with that, she attacked.

* * *

A/N: So then.

I won't say a whole lot here, since there are still a few chapters left, but it's probably clear by this point that I'm not going down the route that Azula is secretly good, or not as much of a threat as Zuko and the others believe her to be.

That being said, I don't see Azula as a simple, two-dimensional villain whose thinking and goals can never change, and if there's one hope I have for the comics, it's that Azula will continue to surprise us with her complexity—whether that means that, within the range of what we know about her as a character, she does somehow manage to find a different path, or if the complexity of her evolving goals remains rooted in the ideals that seem so core to who she is.

Well, I'll leave it there for now. Thanks so much for reading! (I can't express the full range of my views about Azula just now, but for those of you who have been kind enough to leave critiques in signed reviews, I'll be responding when we get to the end of the fanfiction. While in writing a story like this I feel a writer about has to commit a particular point of view to make the progressing plotline cohesive, normally in the course of writing I'm thinking about a multitude of competing vantage points, and I'll try my best to explain the rationale behind particular decisions.)

If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and hope to see you next time! C:

Posted 9/8/18


	8. Weakness

.

* * *

Chapter 8: Weakness

* * *

Fire exploded over Azula's knuckles as she sent a burst of blue flames directly at them.

Zuko barely had time to throw his own blast of fire to block, while out of the corner of his eye he saw Katara raise a hand in a sharp slashing motion, cutting the flames in half with a whip of water.

"Let's do this," she muttered in a low, fast voice, then ducked sharply away, racing to Azula's right. Now Azula was facing attacks from two sides.

Zuko brought his fist forward, sending a shot of fire right at Azula, at the same time Katara launched a barrage of whipping lines of water forward, like a many-headed serpent.

Azula spun, cutting through the wall of flame with her firebending, at the same time she ducked, weaving through the razor sharp whips with ease. As she came around a second time, her foot low to the ground, a stream of blue flames followed in its wake, arcing out to strike at them both. Katara had to draw back her weapons to use the water as a shield, and Zuko jumped back, avoiding the blaze by inches.

"Come now, Zuzu," Azula taunted. "Are you sure you're trying to kill me? Or are we just playing games now?"

Zuko took a deep breath from his stomach, and sent another explosive burst of flame at Azula. She spun out of the way, in the process avoiding another stream of striking water from Katara's flask, and putting another few meters of distance between them. When Azula turned to face him again, her expression was almost lazy.

"It pains me to say it, but this is pathetic, Zuzu. I feel sorry for the citizens of the Fire Nation—if a strong nation is a safe nation, well, it isn't going to be very safe, is it?"

Zuko breathed again and, pumping his fists, sent a flurry of fire blasts over the welded floor. Azula dashed to one side, and he continued to send blast after blast after her. Zuko concentrated on what he was doing, refusing to meet her taunting eyes.

 _Don't think about it,_ he commanded himself. He couldn't think about the fact that this was his sister, the sister he had grown up with—the sister who, at one time, a part of him had even wanted to help. This was about protecting the Fire Nation. This was about saving the lives she may snuff out the longer she was alive and free.

One of the balls of flame nicked the edge of her shoe, and Azula was thrown forward, momentarily off-balance. In that moment, Katara drew a bit of water from the air directly below her, which crawled up her foot and froze there, holding her in place.

 _Now!_ shouted a voice in his head. _Do it now!_

Zuko swung his fist around, ready to bring such a powerful explosion there was no way she could escape it. But for just an instant, he froze.

 _But do we have to?_ whispered a treacherous voice in the back of his mind. _What if there's another way?_ She was his sister. What if he just captured her as before, and just had more guards posted, or built a securer prison? What if...

Azula's lip curled in a sneer, and with a lance of blue flames, she dissolved the ice, and leaped away. The moment was lost.

Katara sent a volley of ice spikes directly at Azula, but Azula, without even looking at her, flicked two fingers in her direction, sending an arc of blue flames to her left and melting the ice in midair. Azula's eyes were fixed on Zuko, and though she was still smiling in her usual superior way, she looked almost disappointed.

"You're still not there, Zuzu," she called. "Still weak as ever." She murmured, "I'm going to help you, Zuzu. I'm going to help you become the Fire Lord you need to be."

Katara growled and, summoning the water that had dissipated in the air, sent needles of it right at Azula's face.

Azula ducked low, and flipped backwards away from them. In the same movement, she sent a stream of blue flame downward with a powerful kick, and used her arms to send out arcs of fire on either side of her, forcing Katara to take a step back, hands over her face. When the air was clear again, Azula was gone.

Cautiously, Zuko scanned the room, as did Katara.

"Up here, Zuzu."

They both lifted their eyes to see Azula standing up on one of the towers of crates, far above them. She had the high ground.

Azula shook her head sadly. "You're obviously not ready yet, Zuzu. You still have a long way to go before you'll truly be the Fire Lord in every sense."

Azula idly played with a strand of hair. "I wonder where I should go next after this. Maybe I'll hide out in the Earth Kingdom for a while. I wonder—what would the people think, if they suddenly experienced a rash of fires? If their crops were burned, if old farmers were found charred in their homes... Peace between the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom is already so precarious, isn't it? A few little fires, and I wonder if war might just erupt again."

Zuko's eyes widened in shock. His mouth hung open. "You wouldn't," he whispered.

Azula's smile as she gazed down on him from where she stood was twisted, her eyes glinting with cruelty. "I wonder, Zuzu," she said softly. "How many people? How many people will have to die, before you're ready to be the kind of Fire Lord this nation needs? Before you are ready to rule as the Fire Lord should. With fear, destroying anything that threatens your reign without mercy..."

Zuko could barely breathe. He had to do it—it was his responsibility as Fire Lord. To live with having murdered his own sister would haunt him for the rest of his life, but he was prepared to live with that burden—for his people, for those he loved. He had to be.

Katara shouted something, and she brought her arms down hard. One of the pipes running along the ceiling of the warehouse suddenly bulged and exploded—the sprinkler system. The water raced toward Azula like a charging buffalo-lion, and Azula had to launch herself from her perch to avoid it. In her momentary distraction, Zuko dug deep within himself, finding his resolve.

Zuko drew in a deep breath, then slowly let it out again. He took up a firm firebending stance, holding his fist before him. There was only one way to guarantee they caught Azula before time was up. One way to stop her.

"Katara," he called.

Katara blinked, and glanced his way. However, a flash of blue flames forced her eyes back to the battle, and she jumped back a step, erecting a wall of water to block it.

"Katara!" Zuko called again. "Do it. I'm ready."

Katara glanced back his way one more time, her face uncertain, conflicted. Instead of replying, she threw both arms forward, sending two massive cones of water barreling at Azula from two sides. Azula sprung straight up to avoid them, and the two collided beneath her, sending droplets of water spraying in all directions.

"Katara," Zuko said, one last time.

Katara stood with her arms raised, staring back at Azula. For a moment she gritted her teeth in frustration. Then, slowly, the conflict in her face faded. He didn't know what she was thinking about—about the boy in the mansion or the Earth Kingdom or Aang—there was so much Azula's existence threatened. But whatever it was, she looked back at Zuko, and nodded once.

Azula did not strike again right away. Instead, her gaze shifted complacently from Zuko back to Katara. Her lips curled.

"Strange to think, isn't it," she said idly. "Back in the Agni Kai at the palace, my brother chose to lose our battle, rather than let you, a mere peasant, die. Strange he would have died for the likes of you."

Katara did speak then, voice hard, flat. "I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand."

"You were my brother's weakness in that battle," Azula continued. "You are still his weakness now—as are all the rest of your little friends."

Azula's gaze returned to Zuko. "How many times do I have to say it? No matter how strong you get, Zuzu, you will still be weak, until you let it all go. Until you let yourself be what I would have been. Unafraid to go to any lengths, stepping on anyone you have to, with nothing, not one person, you're afraid to lose."

For a moment her smile was almost rapturous, eyes half closed. "But don't worry, Zuzu," she murmured. "I'm going to help you. I'm going to set you free, from all those things that are tying you down..."

Azula raised two fingers, and lightning crackled along the tip. Her eyes turned to Katara.

"I'm afraid you're in the way," she said pleasantly. "With you, the last of the benders of your backward little tribe will finally be stamped out. But you should thank me—I'm about to reunite you with all the others of your kind."

Katara didn't react, except her icy blue eyes seemed colder in the dim light. Flashes of lightning played on her impassive features as she waited.

Azula's eyes danced, almost mad with cruel delight. Then, without warning, she lunged.

Katara didn't move, except for a slight twitch of her hand—two fingers, flicked up toward the ceiling. The movement was so slight, it was hardly noticeable.

Azula's arm veered upward, and the lightning playing on the tips of her fingers struck the ceiling above. An explosion shook the building, and a cascade of debris rained down on the floor below. For a moment, bits of rubble fell as dust filled the air, and residual electricity sparked around the charred hole. Then at last, everything settled.

For the first time, Azula's smile slipped. Her golden eyes dropped to her hand, and a touch of confusion crossed her perfect features.

"I'm not the last waterbender of the Southern Tribe," Katara said in a dead, toneless voice.

The confusion in Azula's face turned to shock as she watched her arm move, in jerky, clumsy starts and stops, down to her side, before it twisted around behind her back. There it stayed, pinned, as though bound by invisible restraints. Next came the other arm, folding back next to the other.

Azula stared at the two of them, her face white in the dim light. Her mouth opened as though to ask a question, but then she gritted her teeth. Her head bent forward, and she collapsed to her knees.

There she knelt before them, head bowed, her whole body trembling, twitching, but otherwise frozen in place.

Zuko could only stare. His sister had always seemed so unstoppable. A force of nature. She was the most gifted, powerful firebender he had ever known, excepting perhaps their father or Uncle Iroh, and Zuko had always believed that Azula may someday surpass them. She was fast as lightning, impossible to hit, and always a step ahead, too clever to ever be defeated when in full control of her mind.

Azula managed to raise her head. For once her face, usually twisted with vindictive glee, was slack with disbelief. His unconquerable sister now knelt before them, utterly and completely subdued. All simply from a few movements of Katara's hand.

Zuko's eyes flickered to Katara, where she stood. The light of the full moon was filtering in through the high window, outlining her in silver, her face in shadow.

However, as Katara gazed on her work, her mouth twisted down, her head half turning away, almost in a flinch—her eyes betrayed hesitation, regret. But, breathing deeply, she forced herself to turn back. He knew she hated this almost as much as he did, but she was committed now, and her features blazed with resolve.

"Zuko," she whispered.

Zuko nodded once. He took a steadying breath as he slowly brought his palms forward, letting the fire build inside him as he readied himself for the blast—a blast powerful enough it would finally rid the world of Azula, and so Ty Lee, Mai, his mother, his little half-sister Kiyi, and everyone else Azula had ever terrorized, would finally be free.

He wondered what Azula must be feeling now, here at the end. After spending her entire life mastering the art of inspiring fear in others, was she afraid? Or was she left with only hatred for him now?

Zuko turned slowly, angling his body as he drew back his fist, preparing to strike.

The blank expression on Azula's face suddenly changed. Her mouth, hanging slightly open, closed, and abruptly it was stretched in a wide, triumphant smile. She gazed up at Zuko, and her mad face was suddenly glowing with something like rapture.

The expression, more than any bitter tears or pleas for mercy, froze his blood, and Zuko felt his body halt in mid-swing.

Azula's eyes went once to Katara, and she murmured, "My, what a dirty little secret you've been hiding, peasant. Maybe you are worthy to serve the Fire Nation after all." Her sharp eyes returned to Zuko and she said, still smiling in that peculiar way, "That's good, Zuzu. This is exactly what you need—weapons like _this_."

Katara gritted her teeth and took a step forward, hands shifting to bring Azula's bowed head down another inch.

"We can't listen to her, Zuko," she said. "You know she's going to try to get inside our heads. That's what she does. I know you don't want to do this, Zuko, but—we have no choice. Think of that boy in the mansion. Your mother, Aang—no one will be safe until we do this."

"Yes," Azula said, her smile even wider than before, her face content, almost serene. "You heard her, Zuzu. Do it. Be strong, and make your nation safe again." Azula's eyes burned with wild excitement as she added softly, the words almost a sigh, "Do it, Zuzu, and then my destiny will be complete."

Zuko stared back at her, for a moment unmoving.

"Zuko," Katara said, very quietly. Out of the corner of his eye, Zuko saw her raised hands shake slightly, and beads of sweat had broken out on her temple.

Zuko's eyes flickered unwillingly toward the window—and he wondered if he was imagining it, but he thought the sky looked lighter. The night would be coming to an end soon. And so would Katara's power over Azula.

Zuko took a deep, steadying breath. He had to do this. He had to rid the world of Azula—for the good of the people who depended on him as the new Fire Lord. For the good of his mother, her husband, and his new little sister.

He drew back his fist as once again flames erupted around it.

However, as he gazed into his sister's enraptured face, alight with victory, his fist halted again, for just an instant.

What was it that Azula wanted here? What was she trying to accomplish? She was acting so strange—was she acting as though she were in control, almost egging him on, because she thought it could make him react into doing the opposite? Or...was it possible, that this time, she...

Katara had turned her head slightly to look at him. "Zuko," she whispered again, and her voice rasped with urgency.

"Yes, come on, Zuzu," Azula taunted. "Hurry up, and do what you came here to do. You stopped me. Now do what a Fire Lord would do." Her smile widened, face alight with joy, yet her features were relaxed, even peaceful. Her eyes slid closed.

"Zuko," she murmured. "You're the Fire Lord now—one of us. Like Ozai, like me. Accept it. Embrace it—embrace your destiny, and be free."

Zuko stared back at her a long moment. A bead of sweat slid down his temple as fragmented images played through his mind. Azula, kneeling in front of the palace, her normally perfect hair disheveled, a wild look in her eyes. His mother, her sad eyes full of pain and regret as she spoke of the daughter she had not loved enough. Azula, laying on her side in the palace courtyard, her arms bound behind her back, broken and sobbing with rage and despair.

" _...I've shown you how ruthless you can be."_

"What do you want, Azula?" Zuko whispered at last. "Tell me the truth."

Azula's eyes opened again. The smile remained, playing at the corner of her lips. "I simply want to help my big brother," she said. "Is that so hard to believe?"

Zuko stared back at her another long minute. Then, slowly, he let the flames on his fist go out, and the hand dropped back to his side.

"Knock her out, Katara," he said abruptly. "We're taking her back to the palace as our prisoner."

Katara was bent almost double with effort, her fingers curled like claws—outside, the sky was even lighter than before. They were almost out of time.

However, Katara stared at him, eyes wide with shock. "Zuko—" she began with a grunt.

"We'll take her back to the palace," Zuko said again firmly. He regarded Azula through eyes hard with resolve. "She won't be getting out again. We'll do whatever we have to do to make sure of that."

Some of the joy faded from Azula's face, leaving it devoid of emotion, but for a hint of annoyance.

"Weak," she breathed. "Still _so_ weak. What will it take to finally cure you? What will it take for you to finally see the world with the clear eyes a Fire Lord needs?"

Zuko didn't answer, only glanced back at Katara. "Katara," he began. "Do you think you can—"

Katara gasped, eyes wide, and Zuko quickly spun back.

Azula was on her feet. The arms which had been locked behind her back had come around to her sides, and though her entire body was twitching and trembling with effort, she was able to move now. Zuko realized the faded light filtering in from the high window was no longer silver.

Azula locked eyes with his, and he watched her red lips, pressed in a hard line of intense concentration, suddenly split into a jeering smile.

"Soon you will curse your weakness, brother," she whispered in a rasp. "As, little by little, you lose all that is dear to you..."

Zuko launched himself forward. He couldn't let her get away—yet, no matter what Azula said, he wouldn't do what he came here to do. Of that, he was absolutely decided.

A wave of water suddenly blocked his path, churning before him like a raging beast. Zuko had to raise an arm to shield his face, and when he lowered it, he turned his head to stare in disbelief at Katara.

Katara didn't look at him, her eyes closed. Her face was coated in sweat, her head bowed and shoulders twitching with effort.

"I'm sorry, Zuko," she whispered in a strained voice. Her eyes suddenly snapped open, and they were hard. "But I need you to get out of the way."

Katara lowered one clenched fist, and Azula's head bowed, her eyes wide, teeth gritted as her face contorted with pain. Carefully, with her other hand, Katara drew her fingers slowly upward.

Azula, though unable to fully command her body, dropped her eyes to the floor.

Thanks to Katara's last attack, the floor was covered in puddles, now standing all around Azula's feet. Katara slowly raised her hand a fraction, and from each puddle rose dozens of tiny spindles of water. Each one froze into a small but deadly spear of ice—all pointing straight at Azula.

Katara breathed deeply, evenly. Then she gave a sharp jerk of her arm.

Maybe she wouldn't have really done it. Maybe, at the last possible second, she would have called off the attack, and frozen Azula there, so they could take her back to the palace instead. However—as the moment raced toward him, Zuko found he couldn't take that chance.

Zuko swung his fist, hard, and a wide arc of flame blazed ahead of him. The flames looped around Azula like a great dragon, and every shard of ice melted, leaving bursts of white steam hovering above the floor.

Katara's eyes widened, but the flames didn't stop there—the very edge whipped around, reaching Katara's hand, the hand still holding Azula where she was. Katara gasped in pain as the flame burned her skin, and her clenched fist involuntarily opened.

Azula knew the moment she was free, and she took off once again like an arrow. In an instant she had scaled a tower of crates, and Zuko watched helplessly as she disappeared through an upper window into the pale morning light.

Katara gripped her burned hand, and stared up at the window. They could both see through the window that the sun was already rising—she had done the last bloodbending she would be doing this full moon.

Katara's eyes dropped and, for an instant, her gaze met Zuko's. Her eyes were wide, and swirled with emotion. Shock, horror, anger—

Then she spun, and in an instant was out through the open door of the warehouse.

* * *

A/N: A fairly significant action chapter this time—action is always a challenge in writing, but it seems like it's a particular challenge in writing for Avatar, where the impressive action scenes were a significant part of what made the show so amazing.

Zuko's decision might seem rather abrupt here, given where his mind has been throughout this story—however, Zuko always struck me as someone who might not know his own mind until it came down to the time to actually make a decision. In any case, there will be more on his thoughts next chapter.

Thanks for reading! Once again, thank you all so much for your thoughts and comments, I've appreciated getting to see so many different opinions. If you have a moment, let me know if you have any questions or thoughts this time around, and hope to see you next time!

Posted 9/24/18


	9. Yet to Come

.

* * *

Chapter 9: Yet to Come

* * *

Zuko took off after Katara, and instantly he found himself outside, in the deeply shadowed alleyway.

His eyes fell on Katara ahead of him. She stood some distance away, amidst rusted out pipes and rotting barrels. Her eyes were darting everywhere, to the empty street beyond, the sagging roof of the next warehouse over, back toward the maze of alleyways between the other buildings—however, at last she slumped, head bowing in defeat.

"She's gone," Katara said dully. "We won't catch her now."

The alleyway was silent for a full minute. Zuko didn't move, he barely breathed. He readied himself for the explosion.

Katara said nothing. He watched as her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides, a tremor passing across her shoulders, like the foreshock of a coming earthquake. At last, she slowly turned to face him, and though she said nothing, he could see the furious questions burning in her eyes. _Why did you bring me here if you were just going to let her go? Don't you know that everyone—Aang and your mother and everyone else—is in danger now? Zuko, do you know what you've done?_

However, after a moment she dropped her eyes from his. She let out a short, harsh breath, then stiffly turned back around. Without a word, she started toward the alley mouth, back toward the streets.

"Katara, wait," Zuko pleaded. He stepped forward, hand outstretched. "Please—let me explain."

Katara halted in mid-step, but she didn't turn. He could see the tendons standing out on her wrist, even through the dark material of the cuffs on her arms.

Zuko folded his hands together and bowed his head. "I'm...sorry I brought you here, Katara. I should have known I—but I just—" He didn't continue. He didn't know what he was trying to say.

Katara still didn't answer. Her shoulders were rigid as a board, fists still clenched.

Zuko took a breath, and before he had time to think about it, the words were tumbling out. "I just couldn't kill her. I thought I'd reasoned everything out, and I knew everyone would be safer if I did it, but—"

His eyes dropped to the ground, already knowing how flimsy this was likely to sound. "I just," he mumbled, "I realized I think she _wanted_ me to kill her, all along. She just wanted me to hate her so much—or maybe, fearher so much—that I would do it. And from there, just keep doing the same thing to anyone who stood in my way. Knowing that was her plan from the start—I didn't want to let myself fall into her trap. Not again."

He couldn't look Katara in the eye, so instead he stared at the corrugated metal of the warehouse wall. He noticed corrosion had begun on the edges of several panels, a few with jagged black holes like leopard-caribou spots. The place had been poorly cared for.

Katara turned her head just enough to look at him over her shoulder, the anger still evident in the hard line of her mouth. However, after a long moment, she took a deep breath through her nose, and her eyes slid closed.

"Maybe you're right," she admitted quietly. "Maybe if you had killed her, you would have lost sight of the Fire Lord you're trying to be. Maybe, if you had done it, you would have been losing to yourself and to her."

Katara's eyes suddenly opened, and they were flashing like firebrands. "But," she said, voice rising, "that's why you should have let _me_ do it. I understand how you feel, Zuko, I do, but I told you I didn't want her to get away knowing about that technique. Now you've gone and made sure that she does. And all that about starting fires in the Earth Kingdom to start another war—you think she was just bluffing? That she won't go out and do exactly that, or worse? I don't know what to say, Zuko. Your mother, Aang, everyone, now they're all—"

Katara's voice shook and abruptly broke. She couldn't seem to look at him anymore, and she half turned away, gripping the neck of her bending pouch with trembling fingers. She let out an angry, rattling breath.

Zuko's head seemed to bow with the weight of her words. He knew she was right—of course she was. He couldn't entirely predict the ripple effect his decision would carry, but it was very likely to be more far-reaching and devastating than he could imagine.

Letting out a long, shaking breath, at last Zuko forced himself to straighten. Whatever might happen now, he had made the decision—now the least he could do was try to explain it, as fully as he could.

"I know," he said. "I know. Only—it was more than that. There was one other thing."

Zuko again trained his eyes on the rusting metal, where it rose up from the dusty ground. "There's something that Mai told me. She said that I couldn't escape fear—that I had to choose which fears I could live with, and only I could decide. In other words, it was up to me to decide what was right."

He shook his head. "It reminded me of something I'd heard someone else say. I thought it might be Uncle—but it wasn't. It was my father."

Zuko raised his eyes back to meet Katara's. "My father told me, whether I choose to defend the weak or if I leave the weak to be devoured by the strong, as long as I'm Fire Lord, whatever I choose is right. Because I'm the Fire Lord."

A deep sigh escaped him, and he reached up to rub his forearm. "Of course, I knew that was totally wrong. But as I was doing this, I didn't realize until the moment to decide came—it's the same thing. It's not up to me to decide what fear I'd rather live with. There's a right thing to do, and a wrong thing, and to kill Azula that way, in cold blood—it felt completely wrong."

Once again, Zuko couldn't hold her gaze. Instead, his eyes drifted upward, and he saw the high window through which Azula had escaped, the shattered glass forming jagged peaks at the edges. "That's what I thought in the moment. It seemed so clear. But now, looking back..." He let out a short breath, and when he continued, his voice was no more than a rasp. "The truth is, the moment I decided I wasn't going to do it, I wasn't thinking about the cost, or what it might mean for other people. All I felt—was relieved."

Zuko forced himself once again to meet Katara's gaze. Accusation and betrayal still burned in her eyes, but now her eyebrows had come down slightly in a hint of uncertainty.

"It was easier," he said quietly. "Easier not to do it—easier to let her get away, than to let you go through with it. I thought that was because I was doing the right thing, but—now that she's back out there, and she might do everything you just said and worse, I wonder. I wonder if I was really doing the right thing, or if I was choosing her over everyone else, because she's my sister."

Zuko clenched his fist at his side. "All this time, I kept wondering who was right about all this. Was it Mai? Ty Lee? You? But—maybe none of us were right. Maybe, the one I need to listen to most, has really been Azula all along."

Katara's mouth opened—in shock or horror, Zuko wasn't sure which. However, before she could interrupt, he went on.

" _Even when you're strong, you're weak,_ " he said quietly. "Azula told me that once. I know Azula and my father used people like pieces in a Pai Sho game, and I don't want to be like that, but—I have armies at my command, my firebending is more powerful than ever. And yet, even with all that, I haven't made my nation safe. How will I ever be able to call myself a better Fire Lord than my father if I don't stop my people from getting hurt? If I'm too weak to do what needs to be done?"

All was still for a moment, silent. Katara was staring back at him, but as he watched, her expression seemed to shift. The anger, the frustration seemed to fade, and her eyes widened slightly. Then her eyes abruptly broke from his, to stare at the shards of shattered glass below the broken window.

" _Even when you're strong, you're weak_ ," she murmured, thoughtful. "I remember. I remember when Azula said that."

Her gaze lingered on the shards a moment longer, before her eyes rose back to meet Zuko's. "It was in the forest. When the spirit—the Mother of Faces—told us she would only grant us one favor. That woman we met in the swamp had been searching for the spirit for all those years in order to save her brother, and we all decided she should be the one to take the favor. Azula didn't like that."

Zuko didn't know what she was driving at, so he didn't reply.

Katara's eyes had drifted away again, to stare at a couple of dingy water barrels sitting against the warehouse wall. But then her eyes shifted. She raised her hands, wordlessly gazing down at her own open palms.

"Strong and weak," she said slowly, almost to herself. "Right...and wrong."

She closed her eyes, and for a long minute, she stood perfectly still. The angry lines of her face smoothed, her shoulders relaxed. Then, without warning, her eyes snapped open, and they were abruptly boring into his again, with every bit as much intensity as before. Only this time, he saw no anger.

"You're _not_ weak, Zuko," she said fiercely. "Whatever else you are, Azula is wrong about that. _Even when you're strong, you're weak_ —that's not it at all. I think it's more like, even when you're strong, you're kind. After everything Azula's done to you, you could hate her now—no one would blame you if you did. But you care about her instead."

She glanced away, back in the direction of the broken glass some ways down the alley. "Ozai, Azula—they think _right_ is whatever they make it, no matter who they have to destroy in the process. But you, Zuko, you decide what's right based on the fact that you care. About us, about the Fire Nation—even Azula." After a moment, she added, voice low, "I can...understand that."

Her hands had unclenched, her shoulders relaxed, and Zuko knew the storm had passed, at least for now. However, as his eyes fell on the fresh burn still on Katara's hand, where his own flames had burned a jagged hole clear through the fingerless glove, he realized he didn't feel any better.

Perhaps Katara noticed the direction of his gaze, because she raised her hand and glanced at the burn. She suddenly grimaced, as though only just remembering the pain.

Zuko stretched out a hand helplessly, not sure what he intended to do. "Katara—" he began, the array of useless apologies already on his tongue. "Here, let me—"

Katara put up her other hand, halting him where he was. Drawing a little water from her bending pouch, Katara placed her good hand on the marred skin, and the water glowed a bright blue in the early morning gloom.

Zuko watched her, seeing the blue light reflected in her eyes.

"To be honest," she murmured as the water did its work. "That moment, when you stopped me and I knew she was beyond me... I was relieved, too."

The blue glow faded, and Katara raised her hand, unblemished and whole once again.

"See?" she said, and for the first time, she smiled. "No harm done."

Returning the water to her flask, Katara sighed and added, "Well, there's no going back and changing it now. If it means anything, we both know that if Aang were here, he'd say you did the right thing."

Zuko paused, and his lips flickered in a reluctant half smile in spite of himself. That, Aang definitely would. Guru goody-goody, that was Aang.

However, after a moment, the smile faded.

Zuko was glad if Katara could forgive him—he was only too familiar with Katara's capacity for grudges. However, it wouldn't change whether he had really made the right, best decision or not. It wouldn't change the suffering the Fire Nation people may now endure—the terror that people like the governor and his son would feel when they found out the people who had threatened them had not been stopped.

Katara turned around, facing the mouth of the alley again. "I guess I better go find the others," she said. "I'll bet the rest of the Kemurikage have taken off, just like Azula, but I can make sure everyone's okay. You stay here, Zuko—better for you not to be seen dressed like that."

Zuko opened his mouth to argue. After dragging them all into this mess, he wanted to make sure they were all safe himself, and even if he was fairly certain Katara was right, the last thing he wanted was to be left sitting here on his hands.

However, before he could put the thought into words, he blinked as two dark figures suddenly hurtled past just outside the alley. The wind from their passage ruffled his hair.

"Was that—" Zuko began, startled.

"I'll go find out," Katara answered, but before she could take two steps in that direction, one of the dark figures reappeared in the alley mouth. Though the morning light cast her features in shadow, Zuko would have recognized her anywhere.

"Mai," he said, relieved. "You're all right."

Ty Lee appeared at Mai's shoulder a moment later.

"The Kemurikage all got away," Mai reported. "When the sun started to rise, they took off. We decided to try catching up to you in case you needed the help, and Suki pointed us in this direction. She's back at the mansion, trying to get things cleared up with the governor."

Mai's eyes shifted, and she peered around cautiously. "Azula...?" she began.

"Got away, too," Katara replied. "This town might be small, but it's a maze. And it might be just as well—she was as tough as we remembered, and without the full moon to give my bending the advantage..." She trailed off.

Mai stared back at Zuko for a second. Then her eyes shifted back to Katara, slightly narrowed.

"Well," Mai said at last. "I guess we'll have to try again next time. Did you pick up any clues where she might be headed next?"

"Nothing concrete," Katara answered. She hesitated, glancing back at Zuko.

Zuko met Mai's gaze. He noticed an angry burn on her cheek, just below her left eye, and his eyes dropped—and he realized that neither Azula, nor Katara, was the most terrifying person he would face today.

Bits and pieces of what Mai had said back on the ship flitted through his mind—her and Ty Lee being Azula's weapons, how he shouldn't let himself get caught up on abstract ideas of right and wrong, how he might end up regretting letting someone die because of his failure to act. When it came down to it, he had failed Mai more than anyone. Failed to live up to her expectations of him as the Fire Lord, failed to finally free her and everyone else from the threat that now once again lurked in the shadows.

"I..." he began. He didn't know how to explain to her what he had done. What he had decided—especially when he still wasn't sure if it was right.

The silence lengthened. It was finally Katara who broke it.

"Zuko?" she said, voice oddly gentle. "What do you want to do now?"

Zuko glanced at her, then at Mai, whose eyes were still slightly narrowed in that suspicious way.

Zuko turned his back on them. He felt something rising in his throat, and he blinked rapidly. "I—don't know," he said at last, voice low and thick.

He swallowed, then forced himself to continue, "I—couldn't do it." He stared hard at the cracked and barren ground at his feet. "I don't think I'll ever be able to do it, or let someone else do it—probably not until she does something so terrible that there's no other choice. And maybe not even then."

Zuko's hands clenched into fists at his side. "So," he said at last in a hoarse whisper, "I guess there's not much point going after her again. Not without a new plan and getting more help first."

The alleyway was quiet for a long minute, then two. The air seemed to grow heavy, until Zuko could barely breathe.

At last, Mai said tonelessly, "We're just giving up then?"

Zuko slowly turned back to face them, though he kept his eyes fixed on the broken glass on the ground. "I'm sorry," he rasped.

Ty Lee seemed a bit out of her element in the face of such a depressing atmosphere, but she finally found her voice. "Um, don't be sorry, Zuko. I think you did the right thing."

"I think you did what you thought was the right thing," Katara added, modifying the sentiment a little. "And maybe it was. Nobody can ask for more than that."

Zuko finally forced his gaze to meet Mai's. Her eyes stared steadily back into his, her impassive features inscrutable.

At last, she turned her back on him. "It's your decision," she said without emotion. "I don't have the power to fight the Fire Lord's will."

Zuko didn't know what to say. He opened his mouth, but an odd panic seemed to be crawling up his throat and down into his chest, and no words came out.

Ty Lee and Katara both seemed to sense that this was a conversation they didn't want to be a part of.

"Um," Katara said, backing up awkwardly. "I think I'll just go on to the mansion and meet up with Suki. She could probably use the support."

Ty Lee was fidgeting nervously. "Oh yeah, I'll come with you. I bet the governor's son could, like, use some cheering up."

Mai remained rooted where she was, unmoving as a stone pillar as Katara and Ty Lee backed away, then vanished around the corner, back out into the town.

"Mai," Zuko whispered, head bowed in shame, unable to bring himself to look at her rigid back. "I don't know what to say. I dragged you all here and put you all in danger—and for nothing."

Mai didn't reply.

Zuko gripped his hands tightly together. "Katara tried to complete the mission, but I stopped her. I couldn't let her do it." He didn't know why he was confessing this—maybe because Mai was still silent as the grave, and he wanted her to say something, anything. Even if she was shouting at him, at least it would be something. The threat of Katara's inevitable explosion frightened him far less than the threat of Mai's unbroken silence.

But still, Mai said nothing, and she didn't turn.

Zuko swallowed, then pressed on, "I thought I was doing the right thing, but—now I'm not so sure. I'm not like my father or Azula, I can't just tell myself that whatever I do is right just because I'm the Fire Lord. I have to think, I have to try to figure it out. But—is the fact I at least try to figure out right from wrongan excuse I can use whenever I fail to do what I need to do to protect my people?"

Zuko let his hands fall once again to his sides. His head bowed forward, his shoulders slumped. Katara had called him strong for his kindness, his caring. And maybe there was some truth in that. But he could only imagine how weak he must look in Mai's eyes—too weak to do the hard thing to protect the Fire Nation, and the world.

He had said everything he could bring himself to say, and he fell silent. The chilly air felt dead and stifling here between the old, derelict warehouses, and Zuko stared down at the barren ground again, where dust and bits of trash and debris had collected against the warehouse foundation.

A short breath, almost like a sigh, interrupted the quiet, and Zuko automatically glanced up. He blinked, startled to find that Mai had, at last, turned her head back to look at him. The morning light was beginning to creep over the buildings now, casting Mai's features in even deeper shadow, and for a moment her expression was impossible to make out.

"I think I always knew it would turn out like this," Mai murmured, almost to herself. "I just hoped for something different."

Zuko didn't reply. He couldn't.

Mai at last turned more fully to face him, and as his eyes adjusted to the lighting, he had to blink twice—because he was sure he must be seeing her expression wrong.

Her face hadn't changed, not really, but there was something else there—a softening in her eyes, the corners of her mouth not quite so tense.

"Ty Lee..." Mai began, oddly hesitant. "She told me about something you said—something she heard from Suki."

Uncertain, Zuko didn't move, only waiting for her to continue.

"She told me that, when Tom-Tom was taken, you were worried about him. Not just about his safety, but about his state of mind. If, after going through something like that, he would ever be as happy as he had been again."

Zuko recovered himself a little as the memory came back to him. Though the horror in the capital was now long over, and the children all safe and back with their families, he would never forget that feeling—the anxiety, the helplessness.

Though Mai's expression had lost the stoney quality, and her voice was slightly more gentle, the words felt like a condemnation. Azula had been behind that horror, too, and now it may very well happen again to someone else. Or something worse.

"That's it," Mai murmured. "That's what you've been trying to do. You wanted to stop something from happening to us or anyone in the Fire Nation—but more than that, you wanted to save the people from the fear."

Zuko blinked, startled. His eyes met hers, and this time, he didn't look away.

"People hate fear," Mai continued. "They're afraid of it. It can turn you into a coward, or make you do things you hate. Even when the world is at peace, it's hard to be completely happy when you know it might all fall apart in an instant."

Zuko stared back at her. There was no anger or hostility in her voice, yet he wasn't sure where this was all leading.

Mai turned her head, so she was gazing at the tarnished wall of the alley. "I'm not like Ty Lee," she said after a minute. "I don't believe killing someone like Azula would be wrong. I don't see how protecting yourself from guilt is somehow more brave and selfless than doing what you have to do to give the world some peace of mind."

Zuko didn't answer. His eyes once again dropped from hers, to stare at the ground.

Memories drifted through his thoughts, like wisps of smoke on a breeze—his mother's white face in the darkness as she said faintly, _"They took her, didn't they?"_ Ty Lee, whispering as they emerged from a dank prison cell of the fear that had never really left her. Mai, a spasm of horror flitting across her normally impassive features as Suki spoke of the one Kemurikage that wielded lightning—knowing what it meant and who it had to be.

Mai was right. He had wanted to protect everyone from what Azula might do, but perhaps just as much, he had wanted to save them from the fear. Azula's greatest weapon.

"Of course," Mai continued, and though her tone was still the same dull monotone as ever, a hint of something else crept in—something almost like warmth. "If you want to save people from fear—maybe the world doesn't need another terrifying, ruthless Fire Lord."

Zuko glanced up again, startled. Mai had half turned away from him, but she was looking back at him over her shoulder. A hint of a smile had touched the corner of her lips, so faint he wasn't sure if he was imagining it.

"Unlike Azula," she said, "no matter how hard you try, Zuko—I guess you're just not that scary."

Zuko stared back at her a long minute. The sun had fully breached the horizon now, and a pale orange light was spreading quickly over the purple sky. And, strangely, he felt a hint of a smile of his own spread across his mouth.

"I really didn't fall into Azula's trap," Zuko said, marveling. He had known this before, but now the sentiment felt less hollow, less like simply noble talk for the sake of noble talk.

"Trap?"

Zuko hesitated, realizing he had never actually told Mai what Azula's new plans were.

Before Zuko could think of how to explain, or if he even wanted to explain, Mai sighed again, and the brief, almost-smile was gone. She was back to a deadpan. "So," she said. "Are you going to make the speech?"

Zuko blinked, confused. "Speech?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know. A grand speech about how we're _not_ going to kill Azula, that she's your sister and next time we try to stop her we'll do it the _right way_ , and even if we all end up dead, it's better than forgetting who we are—all the usual heroic nonsense the Avatar has gotten you into."

Zuko frowned. "Do you want me to make the speech?"

Mai folded her arms in her sleeves. "I just made it for you. You're welcome."

Zuko nodded. "I think I will get Aang involved next time. And maybe it will feel...more right."

Mai shook her head, turning away. She made a sound of disgust in the back of her throat. "Honestly, Zuko. If you start talking about auras and vibes, then..." She muttered something else Zuko didn't quite catch.

Zuko was about to ask her to repeat it, when suddenly a braided head poked back around the corner.

"Hey, Zuko!" Ty Lee called cheerfully, waving. "Katara sent me back. We heard from the governor that your ship's just about come into the port. Did you want to do anything?"

Zuko nodded. "I think I'll try to sneak on if I can. I'll go around the long way, so no one will see me. If you could go tell Katara to meet me there, I think I'll probably need her help."

Ty Lee bobbed her head. "Just leave it to me, Zuko." However, as she started to pull away again, she paused, glancing at Mai.

Ty Lee cupped a hand to her mouth, and added in a stage-whisper, "If Mai's been kind of a grouch lately, don't worry about it. She's just jealous."

Zuko raised an eyebrow, thoroughly bewildered.

"Ugh," Mai muttered, putting her hand to her head as though suddenly fighting a headache, and shooting a nasty look Ty Lee's way. "If this hasn't all been the biggest waste of time—"

And with that, still grumbling to herself, Mai stalked passed Ty Lee, and disappeared around the corner, into the morning light.

Ty Lee lingered another moment, beaming at Zuko. She gave him a jaunty wink, then in a moment was gone, heading off after Mai.

Zuko sighed. He lingered in the still-darkened alleyway a moment longer—the air was always chilly this time of year, particularly at night, but now, even in the shadows, he could feel from the rising sun just a hint of warmth.

He hadn't protected the world from fear of Azula. But though the terror of the loss of the people around him was a fear that would probably never fully leave him, maybe the Fire Nation people could find some sense of security in knowing that, even if there were people like Azula always lurking on the fringes, waiting to strike, they might at last be led by someone who wouldn't do the ruthless thing—someone who tried to stop the spread of fear by simply not being a further source of it.

" _Unafraid to go to any lengths, stepping on anyone you have to, with nothing, not one person, you're afraid to lose..."_

Perhaps, in the end, it was Azula who feared fear the most. Why she worked so hard to escape it—by not caring about anyone, by avoiding ever listening to the dictations of a conscience. However, in the end, for all Azula's talk of strength and weakness, he doubted his own fears were anything compared to Azula's, as she stood in the palace as the one their father had named as the Fire Lord, surrounded by people she couldn't trust, favored only so long as she never made a mistake. As Mai had said, there was no living without fear—even for Azula.

Zuko directed his gaze past the rugged buildings, the dust lingering in the air as villagers began to awaken, and go about their morning routines. He looked to the east, the sky now turning to a bright gold, the brilliant sun just visible above the forest beyond.

And, in spite of the fears that may be yet to come—he smiled.

* * *

...

* * *

A/N: And, there it is. Just the epilogue left to go. (Since this is essentially the end, I want to do a bit longer of an author's note than normal, just to explain a little of my thoughts while working through this project.)

So, this wraps itself up possibly about as expected—Zuko doesn't kill Azula.

When I first finished the series, I knew I wanted to write at least one story for it, one that would involve Katara's bloodbending, and also Azula. Because _The Southern Raiders_ is my favorite episode of Avatar, this story emerged as a result. Much later I came to question the premise of whether Zuko, habit of getting himself turned around on questions of right and wrong notwithstanding, would ever get himself thinking along these lines, given where he is in the comics. And also whether Katara, when the moment came, could actually bring herself to go for the kill. However, by that point, I'd already written the story, and so I just focused on making those odd points I didn't think I could really write out as convincing as I could.

On Zuko and Katara's interference with each other toward the end—I expect there will be complaints on this if there haven't been already, mainly because I'm not typically a fan of this type of resolution myself, where the bad guy gets away purely due to some miscommunication or incompetence on the part of the good guys. However, my reasoning in this case was that I thought it was important for Zuko to make a deliberate decision in regards to Azula—not just avoiding killing her himself purely out of a desire to avoid falling into her trap, but actively choosing to save her even though it means her escape. From there, I just rationalize that, even though if Katara and Zuko could have agreed they might have caught Azula right then and gotten her back to the palace, because she is, relatively speaking, back in her right mind again, she would eventually have gotten out, making the end result of Zuko's decision the same anyway.

As for Azula herself—I knew whichever direction I went here, there was likely to be some disappointment. I know when it comes to the comics, many are hoping for a redemption arc, while others love her as the villain and are afraid if she turned toward the good her storyline would just become a clone of Zuko's. (It may not quite be the Zutara-Katang war, but I get a similar vibe.) I have felt both ways at various times, but for now all I really want is to see Azula's story evolve and progress in a complex and interesting way, while keeping her completely in-character, and my hope is to write her in that spirit going forward.

Anyway, on that note, next is the final chapter. As might be obvious from the 'Part 1' in the title, this isn't the end, and I'll talk a bit about the plan for the second part next time.

Thanks so much for reading! (And a big thank you to the reviewer who let me know the mix-up with the opening chapter. If anyone picks out any more glaring problems, don't hesitate to let me know, and I'll do my best to fix them.) If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and hope to see you for the last one!

Posted 10/2/18, A revised version posted 10/30/18


	10. Epilogue

.

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

Deep in the dungeons of a Fire Nation village prison sat an old woman. Her long silver hair hung unkempt about her weathered face, each bone of her skeletal fingers clearly visible through the wrinkled folds of her liver-spotted skin. Dark bruises emerged just visible beneath metal cuffs chaining her to the bars of her cage.

She knew the full moon hung in the sky above the prison, but there were no windows here, and the only light was that of the flickering torches along the wall, above the heads of the guards stationed below where her cage hung by chains, suspended above the ground.

"I'm thirsty," she croaked feebly. "Won't one of you nice young men get an old woman something to drink?"

One of the guards laughed. "Nice try, you old witch. We'll give you a drink—in the morning, after the sun has risen."

The old woman bent her head, as she gave a dry, hacking cough that shook her entire frame. She knelt on her knees in the cold steel prison, hanging limply from her chains. She didn't know how much longer she would live. She had survived this before—being locked in a cage, treated like an animal. But she had been young and strong then. Her old brittle bones couldn't take this treatment much longer.

Still, she had enough strength for hatred. To hate the ruffians in their black and crimson armor standing below her cage, holding her here. She had heard the guards say that the Fire Lord had fallen—that the Avatar had defeated him. She had waited to see the soldiers flee for their lives, as their nation was annihilated—however, the day never came. A new Fire Lord had taken the place of the old, the son of the previous Fire Lord, and everything was going on exactly as it had before. She was still a prisoner, and the monsters in their red and black armor who had decimated her people still walked free.

A sharp cry from down cut into her thoughts, soon followed by a dull thud, and she opened her eyes.

One of the guards was on the floor, unmoving, and the second was drawing his weapon. "Who are you?" he demanded, voice quavering slightly. "Show your face, you—"

Before he could finish, he, too, collapsed to the cold floor, his legs swept out from under him. His skull cracked against the metal, and he lay still.

The old woman squinted through the shadows.

A single figure, who had been crouched low to the ground, slowly straightened. The assailant was dressed entirely in black, with a hood and black cloth covering nose and mouth. A small figure—either a young boy or possibly a girl, though it was impossible to tell in this light.

The figure bent to one of the guards and retrieved the keys. Then, drawing back as far as the metal walkway would allow, suddenly raced at the cage like a charging mule-lion, at the last moment coiling and launching from the metal railing. The figure caught both hands on the bars and, with impossible strength and dexterity, hauled themselves to a standing position, feet finding purchase between the bars. In a moment the cage door was unlocked, and the figure slipped inside.

The old woman regarded the intruder silently, suspiciously. Come to rescue her? Or was this an assassin?

The old woman looked up into the face of the figure in black. Only the eyes were visible, but she could tell by the shape of them that the figure was a young woman. Her eyes were a light blue, the color of a pure mountain lake.

The girl bent slightly, looking the old woman in the face. The girl reached up and tugged the black material over her mouth down, revealing a startlingly pretty face beneath.

"Are you Lady Hama?" the girl asked in a low voice.

"I don't know about lady," the old woman replied, and her voice scraped and cracked with thirst and lack of use. "Who wants to know? Who might you be?"

"I am from the Southern Water Tribe," the girl said, speaking low and fast. "I heard rumors of a master waterbender imprisoned here in the Fire Nation, a master who had the power to control others under the power of the full moon."

"That would be me, girl," Hama replied.

"I have come to save you," the girl whispered. "If you will agree to come with me."

Hama didn't have to consider long. She nodded once.

In quick, efficient movements, the girl had unlocked the chains around Hama's wrists with the keys, and also those binding her feet. Hama stretched out her old arms—it felt so good to move again.

The girl, pulling the black material back up over her mouth, turned her back, bending in a crouch. She glanced back over her shoulder. "Climb on," she whispered, voice muffled by the scarf.

Hama pulled herself to her feet and shambled forward—the old legs that she had not fully used in months barely supported her weight. However, she twisted her arms in the familiar bending motion she had done a thousand times, and she felt the blood in her legs move. It was uncomfortable, painful, as bloodbending always was—but it moved her old body, and in a moment she was on the young girl's back, arms around her neck.

For a moment, Hama wondered if the girl would really be able to carry her. Though she had deteriorated during her time in prison here and was little more than skin and bone, the girl was small and slight. But, to Hama's surprise, the young girl hoisted her easily—she was stronger than she looked.

The girl leaped down from the cage in a single bound, and her feet made barely a noise on the metal as she raced down the walkway and into the corridor outside. The girl seemed to already know the way to escape, as she didn't even bother to look before she sprinted right, racing down the corridor, making no sound but for the light tamp of her feet against the metal floor and her soft, even breathing. The floor angled upward as she took another sharp turn. They were fortunate not to have run into any guards so far.

However, their luck couldn't hold out forever, and as the girl turned the last and final corner, as the metal floor gave way to stone and Hama could see the silver glow of moonlight up ahead, she saw two guards standing by what appeared to be a cave entrance, both dressed in the black and red of the Fire Nation.

"Halt!" ordered one guard, bringing his spear around. "In the name of the Fire Lord, we command you to—"

He didn't finish. The girl did not slow, and Hama, her arms now free, spread them wide before her. Both of the guards froze where they were, and then they drew back, pulling their weapons aside. As the girl passed, she spun in mid-stride, striking one on the side of the head with a free fist, and swinging her leg up with remarkable flexibility and knocking the other to the ground. The two guards lay crumpled in the entry as the girl raced into the forest, Hama reaching forward to take hold of her neck once more.

"Nicely done," Hama said.

The girl didn't answer, only continued to run.

* * *

It was hours before the girl finally slowed to a halt. Hama, though she had been doing none of the work, felt exhausted, and her old bones felt thoroughly rattled to the core. The girl let Hama slide to the grass, and Hama looked down to see they had stopped beside a stream. The flow of the water was so gentle, she could see the image of the moon reflected in its surface.

Hama drew in a deep breath, savoring the taste of the pure water on the air and the sight of the great full moon. This was a sight she had never expected to experience again.

The girl crouched down in the grass beside her. Her breathing was coming a little faster now, and as she tugged off the material covering her mouth and drew back the black hood, Hama saw beads of sweat on her temple.

Hama gazed at the girl for a moment, then, smiling, she swept her hand gently through the air.

The girl started slightly, turning to Hama, then touched her face and realized that the beads of sweat were gone. They hovered in the air for a moment before her, shimmering in the light of the moon, before Hama let them fall to the grass.

"I could use a drink," Hama said pleasantly. Then, without waiting for anything else, caressed the air with her fingers, and a globule of pure, clear water pulled itself from the stream and floated to Hama. She twisted her old, knobbly fingers, and the sphere resolved itself into a shape more like a cup. Hama put it to her lips, and sighed with satisfaction as she felt the cool liquid pass down her old, parched throat. When she was finished, she let the water fall back to the grass and wiped her mouth with a ragged sleeve. At last, she turned to the girl, who was watching her.

"So," said Hama. "You're from the Southern Water Tribe. I would guess you're not a waterbender, as you carry no flask of our tribe at your hip, and you used no waterbending back there. Not to mention all the southern waterbenders were wiped out or captured." _All but one,_ she thought.

The girl nodded. "My brother was the waterbender. That's why he's gone and I'm still here."

Hama put a hand on the girl's arm. "Why don't you tell me your story?"

The girl nodded, though still panting slightly. She took a deep breath, then let it out again.

"My name is Amka," she whispered, still a little breathless. "My brother and I lived with the Southern Tribe, along with our parents—at least until the raiders came. Our parents both died in the battle. Our mother was a waterbender, and she chose to die fighting rather than be captured, and our father died trying to help her."

Amka seemed to have caught her breath now, and continued in a stronger, more even voice, "Of course, the Fire Nation were after the waterbenders, and so my brother ran, taking me with him—I convinced him it was the only way. Thanks to all our parents had taught us, we were able to live off the land, alone."

Amka's expression didn't change, except a slight darkening in her eyes. "However...they found us anyway. They must have been passing close to the shores in the night and seen our cooking fire. My brother forced me to hide in our ice cave, and said he would take care of it—but there were too many. I watched from the ledge of our hiding place as they struck him down."

Amka's voice remained low and steady, but Hama knew enough of hatred to detect the undercurrent in her voice.

"I did not want to live in hiding in the snow without my brother," she continued, "so I left the South Pole. I journeyed in secret for years, looking for small ways to frustrate the Fire Nation's forces. Then, I heard that the Avatar had returned, and later that he had defeated the Fire Lord. I was euphoric—I was sure that our people would soon be avenged... Before I learned the truth."

For the first time, the concealed emotion in her voice rose to the surface, and on the last words, her voice trembled ever so slightly with simmering anger. Her eyes turned to Hama. They were truly a remarkable shade of blue—so light they looked almost like crystal, and seemed to glow in the darkness. Burn.

Her voice remained low, but still shook ever so slightly as she went on. "It turned out the Avatar was _friends_ with the new Fire Lord, and he would not do to the Fire Nation as they deserved. Now, they continue to live on, freely and happily. I had been trying to figure out what I might do—what action I might take against the nation that crushed the back of my people—when I heard rumors of you. A waterbender of the Southern Tribe, who had once rained down terror on a Fire Nation town. And I knew I had to save you, Lady Hama."

Hama shook her old head slowly. "And what can you possibly want from me, girl? It's true the Fire Nation has put me through unspeakable horrors, destroyed everything I cared for, and I'm sure I hate them as much as you do—but I'm an old woman. I can't help you lead a rebellion against the Avatar and the new Fire Lord."

Amka's face was earnest and determined. "I know that, Lady Hama. But the waterbending technique you use—it is the ultimate technique, not just of waterbending, but of all the bending elements."

Again, her light blue eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. "A technique that can take control of the enemy, even stop other benders from using their bending—please, Lady Hama. Let me take you north, to the Northern Water Tribe. The waterbenders there are still many and strong, and were not annihilated as they were in the Southern Tribe. There, we can find you disciples—other waterbenders who can learn your technique. I am sure we will find many who are equally disgusted with the Avatar's betrayal, who will not submit to this new tyrant, the new Fire Lord, and will be eager to learn any power that will allow us to fight them. With your technique, I think we can pay the Fire Nation back for everything they did to us, and more."

Hama was thoughtful, as she gazed out across the clear stream. Her eyes rose to the silver moon. "You want me," she said slowly, "to teach other waterbenders to use my technique?"

"Yes," Amka whispered, and her voice quavered with emotion.

Hama's ancient features creased in a frown. "And how do I know any of these northern waterbenders will have any interest in learning it? I have taught only one girl this power—she was shocked, horrified, and then she turned the very power that I had crafted against me. She used it to let the Fire Nation chain me up once again."

Hama gazed out across the water, into the dark trees beyond. "That was what I wanted at the time—for her to use the power, use it against me so that then she would turn it on the enemy. But now—that girl was a friend of the Avatar. So you see, I have no doubt she is now a tool of the new Fire Lord. Why should I teach anyone else? Why should I spread my power any further, if it only means they will turn it against us?"

Amka reached out and gripped Hama's old, gnarled hand. Her eyes were once again earnest, determined.

"Lady Hama, if you will only come with me, I know we will find waterbenders who feel as we do. The Fire Nation must pay for what they have done." Her light blue eyes burned. "For my brother, for my mother and father, for you—for everyone who has died or suffered under their oppression. I know we will find those eager to learn any power that will let them conquer the Fire Nation, and win back our pride as a people."

Hama was quiet for a long moment. She gazed out into the darkness once again, before her old eyes returned to the earnest young girl sitting beside her.

"Conquer," she said, a faint smile twitching at the corners of her weathered mouth. "Pride as a people. You almost sound like one of them. The ash-makers."

The girl blinked.

Hama laughed aloud, a rasping, grating sound that seemed to tear at her thin frame. "I like that," she said. "The Fire Nation should get a taste of their own medicine. Don't take this the wrong way, but I like your fire, girl. I'll come with you—and we will see if we can find any waterbenders who will learn my ultimate technique."

The girl bowed her head. "Thank you, Lady Hama," she whispered.

Hama's smile stretched wider, though it pained her old cracked lips. "How about I make you a deal. I'll come with you— _if_ you agree not to call me _Lady_ anymore. I'm afraid it reminds me a little too much of this place. I think _Master_ will do."

The girl nodded obediently. "Thank you, Master Hama."

Hama waved a boney hand dismissively. "Nothing to get excited about. I want to strike back at them as much as you do. You've done me a favor. I thought I would soon pass away from this world in that prison, but you've freed me, and given me new purpose. Perhaps I will live to see the day the mighty firebenders fall after all."

The girl smiled, and though on her pale face she wore no makeup, the expression lit up her features. Her skin almost seemed to glow with new color.

"Now," said Hama. "Leave me be for a spell, won't you? I'm an old woman, and I'll need my rest before I go any further tonight. Give me thirty minutes. And then we can go to the north or anywhere else you want to go."

Amka nodded and, folding her hands together, bowed her head respectfully.

She helped Hama to a broad tree, and Hama leaned back against it, and in a moment she was fast asleep, drawing deep, rasping breaths through her mouth.

For awhile, Amka sat patiently in the grass nearby, arms resting on her knees. However, eventually she got slowly to her feet and went to the stream. Crouching down, she splashed some cold water on her face.

For a moment, she gazed down into the stream, and she could see her own reflection in the tranquil waters. Her dark hair was drawn back in a braid, her bangs pulled away from her face except for two loops, each threaded with a light blue bead, of the Southern Water Tribe style. For a moment, her face twisted in the embittered, brooding expression she had worn as she spoke to the old waterbending master. Then the look vanished, wiped away as completely as if it had never been there. Instead, the corners of her mouth turned up in the barest hint of a smile.

Though her face was in shadow, her light blue eyes like crystal seemed to glow unnaturally bright. Slowly, the girl raised a hand to her face, raising two fingers to her eyes. For just a moment, the blue glow of her eyes grew brighter—and then it flickered, like a candle flame in a light breeze. Slowly the blue light faded—leaving behind nothing but a gleaming, burning gold.

"Soon, there will be fighting again," she murmured. "There is nothing like violence to harden a leader from the inside out, and make him go to any lengths to keep control."

She laughed softly in the darkness, beneath the silver light of the full moon. "Soon, you will face a power you thought was only yours," she whispered. "A power that can't be stopped, by you or anyone else—not without sacrifice. So, what will you do then, Zuzu? What will you do then?"

* * *

…

* * *

A/N: And, on that note... [Belatedly, I realized that when I mentioned an epilogue it was probably assumed to be something about Katara, Zuko, or the gaang, so I apologize about that. Also, on Azula's eye-color manipulation at the end—since I doubted technology would be far enough advanced for eye contacts to have been invented yet, I went with this, even if I imagine it to be a scientific impossibility.]

Some final notes:

I wrote this originally just intending it to be a short standalone story—I was looking for a fairly simple idea that fit somewhat with the themes of the show, while playing off the perhaps less heroic sides of the main characters and, in Azula's case, touching a little on her thoughts regarding her change of direction between _Smoke and Shadow_ and _The Search_.

This epilogue came about with the idea that it would leave some things unresolved, along with the sense that, though Zuko made a decision that we might feel was the right one in the grand scheme of things, he will eventually have to deal with the consequences of that decision.

However, I ended up getting some ideas for a sequel, and writing out the initial drafts for it. (Entitled _Shadows Part 2: The Gift_.) It's still quite rough, with various issues to be worked out (trying to navigate the philosophical circles of this story here ended up taking a long time to attempt to bring to some semblance of almost-sense, and the sequel has similar challenges), so I don't have a timeline yet on when I'll begin posting on it. But, you can expect that will happen at some point. Katara's story with bloodbending isn't over, and neither is Azula's—or Ursa's story with Azula, for that matter. (I'm also happy to say that the full Gaang will be playing a more prominent role this time around.)

Anyway, thank you all so much for reading. I've very much appreciated your thoughts and comments, and hope you enjoyed reading this little story, such as it is. If you have a moment, let me know what your thoughts were—as always, I'm definitely open to critiques/evaluations of my character portrayals and writing decisions, among anything else you might notice. While working on this project, I spent plenty of time evaluating my own choices and trying to pick out my inevitable blind spots, and am always interested in hearing other perspectives.

If you're still into reading Avatar fics when the sequel goes up, I hope to see you over there, but if not, thanks again for reading, and hope you have a great year!

—Rocket

Posted 10/15/18


End file.
